The Legacy of The Seeker
by Sorelstrasz
Summary: Nefarian plans to end their rivalry with the Malygos once and for all with a way to transform humans into dragons. Only one survives and begins to wonder across Azeroth for help. He searches for his true destiny, thus becomes "The Seeker".


Prologue

The thunder cracked during the midst of the storm. Each wave smashed against the bow of the ship as the crew members sought shelter inside. The moaning of the wind sent a cold chill down everyone's spine. One of the sailors rushed to the captain. "Sir," he said gasping for air, "The naga appear to have lost sight of us, sir!"

"Excellent," the captain felt relieved, but still had the stress of the storm to deal with, "With them finally off our shoulders, we can start planning a route to find our way home again. Keep the others inside; this storm isn't going to be letting up any time soon."

"Aye, sir."  
>The other sailors had sat down on by the far end of each wall. Each man was drenched with water from the storm. Some of the far more injured were in pain as the salt water rushed into their wounds. The naga showed no mercy to any of them. It was apparent had they not escaped, the many cuts and bruises on them would have covered their entire front and back.<p>

Captain Sorel also had his fair share of wounds from being overworked as a slave to those serpentine fiends. He tried not to show his pain, but even he succumbed to it after being soaked from several waves of the Great Sea. He was glad he wouldn't feel another whip crack on the flesh of his back, and he thought the others would probably feel the same. For now, their mission was a success. They had evaded and escaped the naga right under their noses and with hardly any casualties at that. Sorel was very pleased.

"Rest now, friends," Sorel said with his own fatigue in his voice, "we've earned that much. Tomorrow we set sail for Stormwind, but for now," he paused as he looked outside as the rain pounded the deck, "we weather the storm." And with that, the crew grabbed some torn cloth blankets that were salvaged before they had set sail and slept.

Sunrise. The clouds had scattered across the sky as sunlight poked through providing a calm and relaxing feeling to Sorel. The seas had ceased their violent thrashing and provided a smooth ride for the entire crew. The air even seemed more relieving to breathe as it brushed against the sails held high. It was all a reward to witness and felt like even just at this moment, all that had happened was worth seeing this view.

Sorel turned to his navigator steering the vessel. "Do you know where we are?" he asked him. The navigator shrugged, "Hell if I know." He made a gesture to Sorel that wasn't very assuring he had any idea of where they were.

"What about those maps that I asked to be brought on the ship before we took off, Derek?"

"Those?" Derek's tone began to sound disgusted, "The damn storm smeared all the ink on them! Hardly anything is even identifiable!"

"What!" Sorel bolted inside and dug through paperwork that he had scavenged. Those maps were the key to finding their way home. Of all the times Sorel had hoped this kind of event wouldn't happen, this was not the time where he refused for it to stop him. "Damn it!" He thought for a moment as his anger faded. He walked back to Derek. "You see the Sun?" Derek nodded. "Take us East. We'll hit land sooner or later." Derek nodded, "Aye-aye, sir."

Sorel marched into his quarters and slammed the door shut. The crew had seen Sorel like this before. His temper wasn't a short one, but he wasn't one that could hide his frustration very well. It usually took a while for him to calm himself, so Sorel was left alone until he returned to the deck. The most they could do now was wait.

And so they did, wait.

To see what fate had in store for them.

They were at her mercy.

Several days had passed since their escape from the naga. The men aboard the ship were tired, wounded, parched, and starved. Each passing day, they grew weaker; their strength fading. Every day felt like the chance of them reaching land was diminishing at a fairly rapid pace. Derek supposed they were several hundred miles away from any shore of the Eastern Kingdoms. The naga that had enslaved them had mentioned their city name several times: _Nazjatar_.

Sorel remembered what that was from his early years where he had worked with the Stormwind lore keepers. He was tasked to mostly dust shelves and books along with restoring old books so they seemed like they were in a much healthier condition. Nazjatar was the capital city of the naga. Although completely submerged underwater near the Maelstrom, Sorel and the others were forced to work on the islands that were just above the city.

It was no surprise to him that his capture was retaliation to a previous assault the Alliance had launched against the naga that had been blocking ships from sustaining trade between the humans of Stormwind and the goblins of Booty Bay. They had reports like this before where the naga ransacked small fleets and held the crew hostage, but it never came to Sorel of what actually happened to them. Sadly in his case, along with the rest of his crew, they now knew... the hard way at that.

Suddenly, a call from Derek brought with it a sense of great pleasure, "_Land ho!_" There was a thunderous stampede of footsteps coming from inside the vessel until all that was seen were several men cramming themselves all at once through a small door that refused to let them fit through. A couple of them yelled in anger and swore at each other for being foolish and inconsiderate, but all conversation ceased when everyone was gazing out in front of the bow looking onto the horizon.

Land.

Sorel squinted to confirm the presence of land. Although it was land, it wasn't the Eastern Kingdoms as they had hoped. It was what appeared to be an island. Cheers shook the boat as everyone had their hopes restored. Sorel was also relieved, but at the same time puzzled. He sharply remembered at least that there would have been no such island between the Maelstrom and the Eastern Kingdoms. Something wasn't right. On the other hand, a part of him didn't really feel like taking much thought into it.

As they inched toward the island, Sorel could begin to see trees and the full shape of the island. It wasn't just one island, but two. There was a small crevice between the two that let only several yards of water pass through. They wouldn't be able to squeeze even their ship through there. The sea began to expose many large boulders in the shallow areas of a beach. They were not going to be able to even place their boat near the shore. They were going to have to anchor the ship and swim to shore.

Sorel took one final glance at the islands, thinking about how his crew was going to build shelter, fend for themselves, and find food and water. His thoughts were interrupted by a figure soaring just above the tree line. He couldn't figure out what it was, but it had massive wings. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Whatever it was, Sorel knew one thing.

They were not alone on this island.

Part I

The Wings of Fate

Chapter I

Inside the Blackrock Mountain, the great halls of Hordemar City emitted an eerie silence that echoed throughout the city. Although the hissing of molten lava against rock and steel had been predominant since the city's origination, the haunting silence swept the hissing away almost as if it was the will of the fallen Blackrock orcs who died in this city. Not a soul had set foot on any of its terraces in ages after a fierce battle between the Blackrock orcs and the Alliance during the Second War.

Nothing had entered into Hordemar City after that battle. It now that this aged silence was broken. Wings flapping and feet stomping was all that could be heard. "We have sightingss confirmed of an Alliance ship landing on Tol Barad, your Highness..." said the drake to his human company. His Highness, as he was mentioned, scratched his chin in thought, "Ah, and I presume they have not made contact with us at Baradin Hold?"

"No, your majesty. They were all bloody and bruised up when they washed up on the shore. They are scavenging resources on the Tol Barad Peninsula as we speak."

"It appears they are just in the nick of time. I have been running low on... _subjects_, lately. Perhaps they should be properly welcomed."

"I will notify Baradin Hold immediately."

"One last thing about these individuals, wyrm."

The dragon turned his head in curiosity, "Yes?"

"Based on what you have said, it sounds very clear that these humans are completely ignorant of our presence there. As far as they might know by rumor, the Horde is still in command there since the Second War. Is this correct?"

"From what we have gathered so far, it does appear they lack the knowledge of recent events."

"Good. We can't afford outsiders to know we have established a command post at Tol Barad. It is far too valuable to lose... And I enjoy its lack of existence compared to our other bases of operation. It has proven to be a very tactical area to continue my father's wishes." He paused, "Bring them to Baradin Hold. I have use for them."

With the snap of his finger, the dragon flew off. Hordemar City became silent once again.

"It's about time we fought Malygos with his own medicine."

With the crew finally on the coastline of the island, there was only one thing that came into each of their minds: food. They hadn't had a decent meal in several days. It was even worse since they hardly had any supply of fresh water. They had collected several containers of water from the storm that had passed them by when they were escaping the naga, but it was only enough for them to live off of. Most of the men had lost a few pounds and it was definitely noticeable since all of them had been shirtless.

Upon scouting the first island, the crew managed to harvest several plants and found several ponds of fresh water. Wildlife also manifested here. There were several sightings of fox and spiders near their location. Sorel, although young for his age compared to the others, had the mind of a leader. He had a wide knowledge of what to do in situations such as these from studying the many books in his time with the lore keepers. He ordered his men to find a shelter, preferably a cave. Caves, in his mind, were the only thing that came close to a house. Although pests might need to be evicted such as bats and territorial animals, they would be completely outnumbered against Sorel's crew.

Sorel and Derek are left in charge with scavenging any tools they can use to create some weaponry. Most of what Sorel thought to build were handles used by tree branches and maybe attach a sharp rock at the end to act as an axe. Derek, having more craftsmanship than Sorel, had a more interesting approach. "You know what I was actually thinking Sorel?"

"What's that? I can tell you're thinking of something clever."

"Well, here's what I'm thinking," Derek pauses and takes a breath, "perhaps we can spears out of the fangs of those spiders we saw. Seeing how massive they were, they would have to be poisonous. Spiders don't have many offensive capabilities aside from biting, which is exactly why they are strongly dependant on venom to capture large prey."

Sorel pondered at the thought, nodding and letting Derek continue.

"So we can hunt with the spears and protect ourselves with your axes."

"Whoa, whoa. We can't use those spears to hunt. The meat would get poisoned!"

"So what do you suggest for hunting?"

Sorel thought, unsure exactly of what to do. The thought of traps had escaped his mind.

Not a moment sooner, the rest of the crew returned from their search. "Captain!" They cried, "We found something!" Sorel knew they would. His crew hadn't failed him before; they could get the job done. He had remembered almost every previous time before he had placed a task on their shoulders. Not once had they came back empty handed.

"Spill the beans, men. I already grow tired of this place." He told them.

"Our search was halted after we discovered a steel bridge that connected this island to the other."

Sorel was astounded. Civilization? Here? But now the question became whether or not they were allies.

Another man started, "We crossed the bridge and noticed a few large metal buildings. It almost looked like a prison of some sort."

"A prison?" Sorel began to ready himself for a journey to this prison. He became instantly curious that there had been such a thing here. He thought quickly, trying to piece the puzzles of where they were. They were already aware of this island being west of the Eastern Kingdoms, but now they come to realize there is a prison here? He skimmed through his memory of all the books of geography. Then it all came together, and Sorel did not like the situation one bit.

"Derek." He said. "Did you know that in the Second War, Stromgarde's kingdom had stationed a command post to strike against the orcs on an island off the coast?"

Confused, Derek simply replied with a shrug.

"Well," Sorel continued, his tone sounding much more serious, "the island was known as Tol Barad. The Horde completely annihilated the Alliance there in one swift strike." A pause, letting his words sink in, "I believe we are on that island." Not one person was pleased at this news. For all they knew, they were in Horde territory now. That prison complex didn't share the same characteristics as ones from the Alliance. Their only conclusion was a grim one.

Derek broke the silence, "We need to get the hell out of here!" The others started to run around in a panic by gathering what they could. Most of the food and water that they had retrieved was now in most of their arms; some swam with the items back to the ship to stock up and prepare for their voyage. Sorel ordered them to gather their equipment and place it on the ship. With the others racing to take what they could, thoughts began to race into Sorel's head, thoughts about if the Horde had spotted them or their ship and if they were already planning to capture and slay them. The longer he thought about it, the more he became frightened.

A booming shriek tore at their ears. They all froze in horror. Sorel turned, "What... was _that?"_ Derek didn't care what it was and yelled, _"Get to the ship!"_ Everyone raced toward to board their vessel. It was on by the shore that shadows of the hostile beings were revealed. Sorel looked up in confirmation to his suspicion. _Dragons_. "_No_!" With a swift swoop, the dragons began picking off each of Sorel's crew. The talons bore into their flesh, and cries of agony haunted Sorel. He fell to his knees, the water brushing against his legs and cried, "This can't be the end!" It was then he turned to see a dragon race towards him from the sky. Horrified, he closed his eyes and fell to the ground. All was black, and all was lost.

The rain pelted Baradin Hold's mossy and rusted steel. Perhaps it was not the best place for the Kul Tiras to build a prison, but the magic used to help fortify it made it one of the most indestructible prisons in the world. Not one prisoner managed to escape Tol Barad, let alone Baradin Hold. However, with the prison now abandoned from magic, most of its prisoners did manage to escape. The rest are still trapped within its walls, some haven't survived such a long time of neglect.

However, not one being outside Kul Tiras knew about the existence of the prison except the magi from Stormwind who also helped oversee it, but with their absence others stumbled across the complex... most notably, dragons. Within these metallic corridors, the sound of large metal doors creaking echoes. The water seeps through the ceiling and creating puddles of water and rust mixed together. Ever step seems regretful to take as the prison's eeriness multiplies.

Dragonkin now walk these halls. One of which has received information from a group of drakes that have retrieved intruders on the island. The drakonid turns several knobs on the main entrance gate to the precise combination, and pulls down a very large lever attached to the wall. The hissing of compressed air in the hydraulics roar as the gate cracks open. Dust is spilled into the air and a blanket of light shines into the prison hall. The clunking noise of chains cease with a large bang from the door. The dragons glide with their prey and land, giving the drakonid their undivided attention. They address him with a bow of their heads, "We have acquired the intruders as requested, General Vanaxar." He gave no hint of a reply, but simply motioned the dragons to follow him. Vanaxar glanced at the intruders. All of whom were unconscious and covered in blood. Their torn clothing was also stained in their own blood. Vanaxar thought to himself how these humans were seen to his master as "useful". However, he didn't question what he was commanded to do. He was merely following orders.

They passed many chambers and cells, most had contained vials of chemicals, books, and artifacts that were in Vanaxar's possession. It was in one of the more isolated sections of Baradin Hold that he stopped. He turned to the dragons and uttered, "Place each of them in these individual cells. Lock them up. If our master wishes to have these humans as our next experiments, we must make sure they are separated and have no form of contact with each other." He watched the dragons carry each of the humans into their respective rooms. Each door slammed shut, and the lights dimmed down to hardly any visibility beyond a few feet. Vanaxar dismissed the dragons and he stared at each of them for a long time. He was highly interested in one of the intruders who apparently had been the leader of the group. It struck to Vanaxar that this man had a very strong will. He could just sense it within this one.

It was then that he knew what he would do with this one... and Vanaxar grinned wickedly.

Chapter II

Of all the things that had happened to Sorel, this was probably the worst. It seemed to him that after he left his job with the lore keepers, which his life started to plummet downhill. He couldn't find another place to work; his opportunities to follow his dreams began to fade from him. His last hope was to join the Alliance Navy, which he regretfully decided to join. He was treated like a weak, disobedient child every day. He was constantly yelled at; he had to run several miles a day, and had a ton of chores to do such as cleaning naval vessels and making sure they were 100% spotless. At the beginning, he was anything but spotless. Sorel often received little help from his comrades and was left to clean up after everyone else. He never understood why he kept at it, but he did.

It was only when his sergeant saw how diligently Sorel had been working that he tasked him with taking on a more serious role. Sorel then began to learn about tactical strategies, leadership, and after months of rigorous training with weaponry, combat routines, and how to survive if left deserted, he was put in command of sending an infantry squadron to Theramore across the Great Sea on the continent of Kalimdor. And that was when fate had decided Sorel was not worthy.

His squadron was 2/3 completed with their voyage across the sea when his ship was brutally attacked by the naga of Nazjatar. For the survivors of the attack, they were enslaved and used as tools for the naga. But now, as he lay unconscious, he was still able to think of why all of this was happening to him. If fate was so determined to ruin his life, why didn't she just kill him? Sorel was so frustrated that he had to deal with all of this. And now, he had been captured by some mysterious dragons on an island that he had stumbled upon that was actually in control of the Horde. But maybe he was dead, maybe this was what death was: black. Perhaps he would spend an eternity here with nobody else except himself. Sorel merely accepted all of this. He believed his time had finally come.

He could feel it inside him.

This was the end.

And with this acceptance, he opened his eyes to stare at what he would have to spend the rest of his days in. Everything was white. He blinked several times allowing his eyesight to adjust. He tried to move his arms to his eyes, but they refused to budge. In fact, his entire body wouldn't move. As his eyes adjusted, everything became into focus. He could see that he was in a large room. It was obvious to him he was still in Baradin Hold. He couldn't even move his head. As he kept nudging, feeling began to rush through him again. It felt extremely different, however. His whole body structure had changed. When Sorel began to think about it he also realized his eyes only focused when he crossed his eyes. His breaths were definitely larger and deeper than he last remembered. He could feel that he was being restrained by cold, metal chains that rattled when he tried to move. He grunted deeply, which escaped him in a manner that Sorel couldn't even recognize that that was his voice. Thoughts started to race into his head, "_what is happening to me?"_ In a shear panic, Sorel used all his strength to free himself. He struggled against the chains that held him down. He felt as if the chains were not going to give in to his will, but he refused to be trapped like he was.

_Snap!_

One of the chains broke off of him. He was far too focused on breaking the rest of them to even question how he managed to even break one of them. He then began to hear the rest of the chains snap loose. Sorel fell to the ground and the chains rattled onto the floor as well. Something was definitely wrong with him. He felt different and sounded different... he might as well just be all different.

He looked at his body in astonishment. He didn't see the skin and flesh that he had, but saw black scales envelope his entire body. His hands and feet had become more like paws with three large black talons. He noticed that wings had also sprouted from his back and with further investigation, a tail swayed carelessly from his body. It took only a moment for him to realize what he had become. The Sorel that was a proud human of the Alliance Navy did not stand there in Baradin Hold, but a black _dragon_ that had been transformed from this man stood where Sorel should have been. He had no idea how to take this. He couldn't decide on whether his life was totally ruined or the fact that this was a second chance at the life he never had. Sorel had far too many thoughts to process at the same time.

He had to escape this place. Now.

Sorel looked around to see that there were barred windows near the ceiling that were several feet up. He had to hurry now, because he was more than sure his captors would have heard all the noise that he had caused. He first thought how he was going to even reach those windows, let alone break through them. With a look at his new ligaments adapted for flying, he knew what he had to do. Sorel focused hard on trying to control his wings. He had no idea how to move them let alone use them, but he needed to know now in order for him to survive. He rolled back his shoulders and thought hard. His wings began to expand and retract at his command. Sorel's morale rejuvenated him and he continued to try and flap his wings. He flapped them harder and faster every time. Then something he even wouldn't have expected happened, he _flew_. Sorel looked at the ground in amazement, but looked upward to reach the windows. When he looked out the window, he saw freedom. All that was between him and freedom was that accursed window.

"He's loose!" Sorel turned back quickly in terror and saw a drakonid try to rally others to his aid against Sorel. Sorel hovered over him and fell on him with his entire body and weight. The thunderous thud was mixed with the sound of armor and bones breaking. The drakonid didn't even have enough time to scream in fear. Sorel quickly flew back up and rammed against the window with all his might. Others were bound to be racing in and Sorel did not want to be part of their experiment any longer. He charged at the window with all of his might. Every ounce of his strength was put into one final blow at the metal wall that trapped him in there. The impact rang across the entire complex. Sorel fell on a table with several empty glass vials and strange tools of some sort. All of the broken glass spread around the floor. Sorel shook his head and looked to see what damage he did to the wall. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. His heart dropped. With no other alternative, Sorel dashed into the hallway looking for another possible escape.

"There! Don't let him escape!" Sorel had caught the attention of nearby dragonkin. No doubt it was either from his banging on the wall or just the loud stomping of his feet through the hallway. He scurried awkwardly down hallways, stairwells, and corridors trying to shake off his pursuers. He was never used to running on all fours. Sorel came across large crates that he passed by. With a flick of his tail, the crates tumbled onto the following dragonkin. Sorel was safe for a brief moment. He scanned each turn, trying to avoid continuously going in circles.

It was up ahead that he noticed a very large corridor. He only hoped this led him to the exit. Sorel had no intention of staying here any longer. He stopped suddenly before entering to catch his breath. He looked behind him. From what he saw, it appeared he had managed to elude any pursuers he had come across. Sorel couldn't see far away due to hardly any lighting. He supposed this helped him erase his tracks. Sorel sighed and turned and bolted through the corridor. The door had burst open. Its creaking hinges echoed in the darkness of the very large chamber.

Silence.

Sorel appreciated it just a moment before, but now it seemed very discomforting. Sorel was still breathing heavily from running for his life. He stepped forward. Something caught his eye to the right. It was a switch of some sort. Sorel's curiosity got the better of him. With a flick from one of his claws, the lights turned on. The whole chamber had several dragons of multiple colors hanging from the ceiling. Glass vials filled with all kinds of chemicals filled several shelves that had been placed everywhere on every wall. There were black metal tables on the ground. A lot of them had the corpses of many different races of both Alliance and Horde. Many had limbs dismantled or mutated. Some had draconic adaptations that had taken over their body. Some of their legs had more of a draconic structure to them. Some had scales on parts of their body. Others had either horns or tails. Few had sprouted wings on their backs. And the one thing all of them had in common was blood. Their bodies had blood seeping out from where those mutations were. It was all such a horrific site to bear witness to. A part of him still believed all of this was a dream, but he couldn't stop to think about it. If this wasn't a dream, his life depended on him escaping.

Sorel then looked at himself. It all began to click. He was just like everyone else in that room... an experiment. Those dragons had captured him and his crew as another batch of subjects to be tortured and turned into their own kind. He thought for a moment about what would have happened to his crew. He wanted to know what kind of horror they were put through as he had been through. Sorel wanted to help them, but fear was getting the best of him. Sorel had no idea why these dragons were doing something so undeniably disturbing. His stomach turned with each new body he walked passed. What did all of these people do to deserve such a horrific end? Sorel felt extremely lucky. He was glad he did not share their fate... the death part. Sorel felt relieved he didn't die as a tool to those other dragons, but regardless he still was a tool. Sorel would have to find someone to tell them of this. Perhaps there were other beings that had become dragons themselves. Maybe they were forced to obey the others here. It was all such a terrible thought.

A glass vial shattered behind him and frightened him. Sorel thought he had been spotted. He had to leave. The more time he spent looking around the less likely he would escape. He hurried to the other side where an opening was by the ceiling. It was very large and Sorel could easily fly through, but he had no idea where it would take him. He took his chances and flew into the opening. There was a dim light at the end of this strangely dark tunnel. Sorel continued to fly to where the light was. It continued to grow brighter and brighter. The tunnel then swerved upwards. The light blinded Sorel for a brief moment. The wind picked up as his eyes adjusted. He was outside.

There was no turning back now.

As Sorel began to fly away, he was shocked at what he saw. There were a countless number of dragons like him flying in the sky. Sorel knew some of those dragons were responsible for him being transformed into what he was, but he had no idea what to do about it. Even if he tried to avenge the possible deaths of his friends, he would be outnumbered by the rest of them. Sorel could barely fly and he was not capable of fighting dragons that could maneuver through the sky with experience. Sorel could only make one possible choice now: run. And he did just that. He flew away from Tol Barad, trying as hard as he could not to be seen. He flew towards the east where the start of his new life would be.

He only hoped that all of this was happening for a reason. It felt like that was all he could do.

Sorel continued to fly into the horizon...

Chapter III

"_ESCAPED!"_ Vanaxar roared in fury. It was absolutely unacceptable to have a prisoner of the Black Dragonflight to escape under Vanaxar's command. With a quick slice of his blade, the drakonid marked his messenger with a gash across their chest. The dragon messenger roared in agonizing harmony with the ring of the vibrating blade and fled from Vanaxar, leaving a trail of blood behind. General Vanaxar sheathed his scarlet soaked blade. His master would be twice as furious as he was about the escapee. "Nefarian will have my head if that experiment is not returned to him!" he thought out loud.

He went to the cell where his prisoner had escaped and observed the wreckage. "What a mess." He said. The chains had broken and dangled from the table where his experiment had been. The corpse of a dragon had been pushed to the side of the entrance. The door was already stained in blood along with two large indentations in the steel floor. An advisor to Vanaxar walked in, Vanaxar being aware of his presence. "I want a report of what happened here. Now." Vanaxar demanded his assistant.

"From what we have gathered, Test Subject 4806-7B's transformation completed on schedule, but between the end of the transformation and when our scientists returned to administer the mind-altering agent, the test subject awoke from his coma and made a frantic attempt to escape." The assistant pointed to the large hole in the wall where one of the windows had been.

"Why wasn't the altering agent administered _first_?"

"The test subject's body would have grown completely unstable and we would have to wait until it takes full effect before we would have been able to initiate the transformation! It takes several hours before the agent reaches full effect. So in order to provide the most efficiency, we administered the transformation spell first."

Vanaxar growled. Although he wish the brainwash had occurred first, his assistant was right. The quickest way for the overall process to be completed was if the transformation did take place first. Vanaxar had some other questions, "What about the others?"

"Most of which did not survive the transformation, general. We have reason to believe that they lacked the strength to endure it completely. However, it does appear that we have a sta-" The assistant had been thrown onto the table in the middle of the cell with Vanaxar's hand against his throat.

"I don't care whether or not the transformation process we are using is stable or not. What I _do _care about is whether or not I will live when Nefarian receives this news!"

His assistant seemed to agree, but Vanaxar was debating whether it was because he actually did agree with him or the fact that he just wanted to breathe again. He released his grip on the assistant who instantly gasped for air. Vanaxar wished he hadn't let him go. He liked to see others suffer just a few seconds longer to see them start to panic and become desperate. It was a sign of fear and Vanaxar fed on that fear. It empowered him. He looked back at his peon who merely stood there looking at him, breathing heavily. Vanaxar glanced back at him. It was clear what had to be done now. Nefarian must be told. "Get my drake ready. Grim news such as this must be delivered personally." And with that, the two left.

The rain stirred up again and seeped through the large breech in Baradin Hold.

Sorel watched the waves of the sea crash onto the rocks below him as he stood perched high on top of a rock formation. He stared off into the horizon where he could barely make out Tol Barad with his draconic vision. He sat there as the winds brushed his face and chest. Thoughts of Derek and the others still crept in his mind. Although the anger in him wanted him to return to Tol Barad and free them, he couldn't. Sorel was not in a position to go back there and would be easy to pick off again by the other dragons. He would have to just have to only carry their memories with him.

Sorel was not known to cry, but he now cried out his frustration, his anger, and his sadness. His cries bellowed out as roars from his draconic self which could be heard across the plains that frustrated him even more. He didn't want to be a dragon, nor did he want any of this to have happened. Sorel wished he was back in Stormwind's Navy and passed down his sergeant's offer to sail to Theramore. Had he known this would have been the outcome, he would have never have gone. Ever. Lives would have been spared and pain would have never scarred to him in the way that it did. He now felt alone now; nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

He turned his head towards the shore of Gilneas. Sorel supposed all that was left for him was to move forward. He spread his wings open and soared to land. Although he wasn't fond of being a dragon, he had to admit that the view from the sky was breathtaking. Soaring through the clouds, free falling every now and then, Sorel started to enjoy himself. He had never had this much fun before. Amazing was the only word he had for it all. Sorel tried to attempt some tricks in the air such as spiraling down to the ground and other tricks he saw dragons do. For a moment, all of his sadness was taken off his shoulders. Never before had Sorel felt like this before and he believed this would never happen to him again.

Sorel took a moment and landed in the headlands of Gilneas. The open plains calmed him. As he looked around, he realized that he was the first man to- well, dragon, he supposed, to bear witness to the Gilnean capital ever since they had sealed themselves away from the rest of the world. Incredible. He thought to himself, "_I suppose the best thing to do now is find someone who can actually help me. Maybe they can help me turn back to normal. I don't think I'm ready to take on a new life, not with so much that will be lost in the process. I must find help."_

Although help was what he wanted, Sorel had no idea where to even look. He couldn't return to Stormwind as a dragon, a black one at that. Black dragons were considered hostile creatures and the Alliance ordered its guards to slay them on sight. He hardly knew anyone outside of Stormwind. He would have to be on his own for a while. His stomach growled with hunger. Sorel did remember that any transformation of the body takes a high amount of energy, regardless of how substantial the changes are. He decided that meat was his best option and flew across the plains in search of a meal. It would be the first time he had ever eaten meat raw before. The shear thought of eating raw food sent him a quiver.

King Nefarius sat on top of his mighty throne atop of Blackrock Mountain. He ruled the Blackrock orcs with an iron fist. What the orcs didn't know was that their revered leader had a different alias and more importantly, a different form. Although he appeared to be a human a human emperor, he was also the son of the Aspect of Earth, Neltharion.

The Aspect of Earth was once a great protector of Azeroth, but his sanity drifted away with the whispers of the old gods. He then became the most powerful instrument at the old gods' disposal. Neltharion's power had multiplied exponentially and had gotten to the point where the dragon couldn't hold his mighty power within his own body. His skin and flesh had begun to tear and shred apart as the power within him could not be contained. But with the help of his goblin minions, Neltharion had metal armor plating painfully attached to him not only to protect him, but to hold himself together. Ever since then, he had established himself as Deathwing, the Aspect of Death.

As the son of Deathwing, Nefarian saw to it that the will of his father was carried out during his absence that had occurred during the Second War after a duel between Deathwing and the other Aspects after the Demon Soul had been destroyed. One of the tasks he was assigned was to deal with the Aspect of Magic, Malygos. Malygos had also began to lose his sanity as well and believed the mortal races couldn't have the responsibility of using magic as they were too, "foolish and arrogant" as Malygos would have put it.

There was a constant rivalry between the Blacks and Blues ever since the Age of Dragons had ended after the Sundering. Nefarian felt like it was time to settle the score once and for all, but with both Dragonflights having vastly low quantities, the King of Blackrock sought other methods to tip the scales in his favor. _"But how?"_ He thought to himself. It wasn't until he looked at his human hands that the most dark, sinister, and twisted idea formulated within his head.

It took him decades to create a potent mixture along with years of studying the effects of magic and how it reacted to the mortal body. After hundreds of tests, numerous experiments, thousands of calculations and tweaks, and thousands of subjects, Nefarian's dream had become a reality after nearly a century. With glass vial filled with a glowing black liquid in hand, he took a moment to realize all the work that it took him to create such a concoction. He then dosed every last drop onto the unconscious subject labeled as "Test Subject 4806-7B". It took only seconds for the liquid to be absorbed through the skin, almost as if it had evaporated on contact.

The skin slowly turned into a light reddish hue. Bones began to crack and the ligaments appeared to have been stretched out. The structure of each ligament started to become deformed as fingers fused together, nails being ripped out as large, bloody talons took their place. The skin also started to become punctured all over with black scales seeping out as well as blood. Two large bulges had formed on the subject's back which had stretched down to the lower part of his waist. In a split second, the bulges tore through the flesh, blood splattering everywhere as wings had blossomed from the wounds. A tail had started to elongate from his tailbone and appeared to be increasing in length and thickness. In fact, the whole body had swollen to a much larger proportion, nearly two fold. The nose and jaw of the face stretched out forward with multiple cracks being heard as the skull was reforming to a more draconic shape. Horns had grown from his forehead as well as his elbows. After several minutes of the undergoing transformation, it was over. In front of Nefarian had stood a new black dragon that lay in a puddle of its own blood. All Nefarian had to respond to this was a deep, twisted laughter.

But what Nefarian had not planned was General Vanaxar walking towards him as he passed away the memory. He shifted up in his throne and welcomed Vanaxar, "Ah. Well if it isn't General Vanaxar of the Baradin Hold Project. I trust you are in good spirit, yes?" Vanaxar was never good at hiding his expressions, but replied, "I bring news from Tol Barad, y-your Highness."

Nefarian saw in Vanaxar's face that something had gone wrong at Tol Barad, "Well then," he said slowly, "spit it out."

Vanaxar swallowed hard, "Yes sir. After your departure, we had a... complication with our transformed subject."

"Let me guess!" Nefarius stood up from his throne, "He woke up from his coma, didn't he? Before you could brainwash him?" He started to walk towards the general.

Vanaxar's legs froze, "Y-yes, your majesty! But we have sent out a search party! We'll be sure to find him in a matter of -"

Nefarian thrusted his hand and reached for Vanaxar's throat. He squeezed every ounce of air from him.

"I'm... I'm s-sorry, Nefarian...!" The general managed to exclaim as Nefarian's grip on him increased.

"I have had far too many experiments that have failed in one's lifetime, general! I cannot allow those that become a success to escape!" Nefarian looked away and then back at him, "All of my work, day after day, month after month... year after year! And for what, to have you lose one of my most prized possessions?" He held Vanaxar over the edge of his platform. Below was what looked like a descent into nothingness. Not one being was able to see the bottom of the mountain through such thick clouds that had surrounded the peak. Vanaxar began to panic, "You must not do this! I can get back your subject! I promise! Please!"

"The deed has already been done, Vanaxar. You have failed me for the last time."

"No..." It was the last word Vanaxar would ever speak again. Nefarian watched him fall below the clouds until he was never seen from again, still listening to Vanaxar's cry of anguish ring in his ears. Nefarius simply walked back to his throne and sat down as if nothing had happened and pondered.

Chapter IV

Over the last few days, Sorel had begun to catch on how to survive... as a dragon of course. His strength had been replenished after he had gorged himself with meals consisting of bear and wolf alike. He even found fresh water by the Greymane Dam which had been the foundation for the construction of the Greymane Wall. There were occasions that he had been spotted by the Gilnean watch, even fewer times that they fired warning shots at him when Sorel got too close to their capital. He wondered if they were planning on sending out troops to hunt and kill him Sorel did not want to find out.

After his last feast, Sorel flew southward. He hoped he would manage to find someone that could help him, anyone really. It took days of weary travel with multiple stops for Sorel to give his new wings a break. Hillsbrad, Arathi, and most of the Wetlands were behind him now, but he was starting to become desperate with every passing minute. Sorel had managed to fly atop the dam of Loch Modan. It was finely crafted by the dwarves of Ironforge as a testament to their-

A shrill roar boomed into Sorel's ears. He turned around, yet saw nothing. All that was near him was a dwarven building that had been built into a mountain. Sorel reluctantly flew down to its entrance. A single, large iron gate refused to grant anyone entry or exit. It became dead silent and the air became still where Sorel stood. He moved his head to the side of the door to listen if anything stirred inside.

"_You!"_ Sorel turned to his unknown guest. It was a scarlet dragon soaring straight at him. Sorel dove out of the way before the behemoth landed on him. The red dragon landed with a loud thump that shook the earth beneath them. Sorel stepped back. The dragon glared at Sorel quickly and charged at him. As much as Sorel had hoped to dodge this attack, he couldn't. The impact knocked all the wind out of him, but he hadn't even hit the ground yet. Sorel fell hard on his back as the dragon scolded him and roared violently in his face. The dragon then flew back from him and stood there, ready to strike again. Sorel rolled on his side and stood up, _"The hell was that for?"_ He thought. _"Your kind has no place here at Grim Batol. That is what that was for. Perhaps you should leave before I decide not to spare your life!"_ A lot of things shocked Sorel with this reply. First and foremost, the dragon replied to his thoughts, secondly, the tone of the dragon sounded very feminine, and lastly, she also replied to him not vocally, but mentally. It was some kind of thought-speech Sorel supposed that dragons had possessed.

The dragon snouted, "State your name!"

Sorel didn't want to cause any trouble and replied, "I am Sorel. Who might you be?"

"Sorel? An odd name for a black such as you. I am Setrastrasza, guardian of Grim Batol." She cut off Sorel from replying, "Why are you here, Sorel? Your behavior is unlike the other blacks I have encountered, but no matter."

"I'm trying to find someone to help me. I heard a roar and thought someone needed help."

"Wait a minute." Setrastrasza suddenly became intrigued, "You, a dragon of the Black Dragonflight, came here to seek help? Oh, and for the record, that roar was from me. It was a warning to you to stay away, but I can see that you are far more ignorant than the rest I have seen."

Sorel snarled, but he didn't want to start a fight, "Allow me to explain."

"Go on. I'm all ears."

"Something terrible has happened to me. I-"

"Yes, that is very clear. Something is wrong with you."

"Do you want me to tell you or not?"

She sighed, "Fine."

"I am not a dragon, Setrastrasza. I am a human. My men and I were captured by black dragons and they turned me into..." Sorel gestured to all of him, "this."

Setrastrasza's eyes widened, her maw dropping as well, "You... you were turned into a dragon?"

Sorel nodded in displeasure.

She took one calm step at him, but quickly drew it back and scolded him, "How do I know this isn't some sort of trap?"

"Well for one, I'm obviously stupid according to you."

"Hah. I suppose you're right, but how about giving me a real reason? One that is more serious to the matters at hand, yes?"

Sorel mocked the same step that Setrastrasza took and looked at her intently as he spoke, "I have lost everything: my family, my job, my friends... and my life, Setrastrasza. I wouldn't have gone all this way to search for someone had it not been for what I have become. There is nothing now that I can cherish."

She could then see that deep within this trespasser that he was telling the truth. His tone seemed very desperate and serious. Sympathy grew within her.

"I..." She choked out, "I am so sorry."

Though his words were short, Sorel appeared to have convinced her. He didn't think for one moment that other black dragons who had passed by here told her the same story or anything close to it. Then again, maybe Setrastrasza only felt sympathetic for him because he was completely failed to interpret a warning to stay away, but there was one thing that was certain. Sorel didn't have anything to go back to. Perhaps she was the person he had been looking for, despite her seemingly apparent attitude. He could only hope all of this would be worth it. Whatever the case was, she believed him. That was all that mattered to him.

"Here," she said to him, "follow me. You have much to tell, Sorel. I can see that much. What you have gone through would intrigue most dragons. Others would be more than honored to hear your story as well as myself." Sorel nodded and they both took flight.

Past several high mountain cliffs to the north stood luscious ruby leaved trees that stood so gorgeously from the emerald grass that covered all around. It was beautiful. There were several other red dragons that lied down in the grass by some of the ponds. They circled the largest tree that stood in the middle of the area. Setrastrasza looked back at Sorel, "Stay close to me. We dragons have a straight forward way to show escort supposed hostiles into our territory. If you're close and follow my path, you're safe. If you stray off... let's just say that it could get bloody."

As they landed, Setrastrasza called the other dragons to congregate around them. It made Sorel very uncomfortable to see all of the other dragons scowling at him, some hissing. He whispered to Setrastrasza, "I don't think this might be a good idea." "Trust me," she insisted, "as I have trusted you." Sorel still had his doubts, but he trusted her. "Brothers and sisters, I am thankful you have heeded my call," she began, "as I have brought with me one of Deathwing's brood." Several interjections interrupted her, insulting who she had brought. Setrastrasza motioned for them to be silent, "However, I understand that the Black Dragonflight is a highly noted enemy of ours, but this one is different. I would like you all to listen to him and what he has gone through to get here. You will find that he is unlike any other dragon we have come across." Sorel moved toward her and looked at the others like her. It still wasn't very promising, but he began, "Uh, hello. I am Sorel." The awkward silence didn't faze him. He took a large breath in and continued, "I have traveled for miles from the north in search of someone who can help me. I am not what I appear to be. I come to you in the form a dragon, but my soul... my soul is human. I was transformed into this by black dragons on the island of Tol Barad. You have to believe me!" They all began to whisper amongst themselves. Some had gasped at him.

One of them stepped forward, "Sorel, was it? I am Vordrastrasz. I help watch over this Vermillion forest along with Setrastrasza and the others before you. You come to us in spirit as an ally, but you also come to us as an enemy with your physical form. It is hard for me to believe that you are telling us the full truth. We have been deceived many times in the past and it is only natural that we make sure you are fully honest in order for us to trust you, let alone help you. Sit down Sorel. Let us hear your journey in the fullest of detail."

Sorel lay back on his hind legs, using one of his forearms to gesture with while his other forearm planted on the ground for support. Sorel told Vordrastrasz, Setrastrasza, and the rest of the red dragons of his past life and how he had been assigned to lead a voyage to Kalimdor. He went into great depth when they set foot onto Tol Barad and how his crew was captured and used as experiments for the Black Dragonflight. For what purpose, he did not know, but what he did know is that he was now a fully fledged dragon and he had no idea if it was possible to become human again.

Everyone had been in shock as Sorel had finished. Nothing like this had happened ever before. Nothing could even get close to how cruel and inhumane this event was. Setrastrasza looked even more horrified than the rest of them. Vordrastrasz then made one statement, "I. I am at a loss of words for you, Sorel. You have lost so much. Please, stay here. You will find sanctuary with us while we try to help figure a way for you to seek help. I am afraid since you are the first transformed human into our kind, we know far too little to know how to revert the magical effects that have been inflicted upon you. We will help you to the best of our ability. You have the Red Dragonflight's assurance with you, now." Sorel nodded wearily. He had become excruciatingly tired and saddened with remembering all his friends that had been lost. It all had happened so fast. Sorel stared blankly at the dragons leaving. He imagined each of them as all of his friends that had probably perished back at Tol Barad. His limbs buckled and he fell to the ground. "Sorel!" Setrastrasza rushed toward him. She lifted up his wings that shielded his head to see that his paws covered his eyes. He began to weep in sorrow. Setrastrasza, proud watcher and protector of Grim Batol, had sat down next to the weeping black. She extended her wing over Sorel.

The fluorescent glow of the moon radiated across the pond of water. Sorel looked up into the cloudless night sky for some kind of answer to why he had to endure all the suffering he had gone through. He desperately waited, but not one thing replied to his prayer. Nothing even cared for him.

Nothing at all.

_Nothing._

Chapter V

The following morning was strangely quiet. The leaves of the vermillion forest bristled with the light breeze. There was one thing that didn't fit here in this environment. And that thing was Sorel. He slept quietly under a large tree. A large blanket of shade kept him cool throughout the morning. His dark and twisted black scales disgraced the colors on the canvas that he lay upon. However nature saw him, she did not bother the sleeping black dragon. It wasn't within her power to deal with such things. All nature had was patience.

Sorel still had dreams of being human again. The last several days he had awoken, he thought he was still human until reality kicked in. It was never a great way to wake up in the morning. He would have preferred to have the smell of his mother's cinnamon rolls wake him up. Sorel couldn't recall how long ago it had been since the last time that happened. But he considered waking up as a dragon as if he had woken up to a nightmare. Perhaps he should have bought a dream catcher from a Stormwind craftsman. He figured it would at least help him get over this a little bit better.

The black dragon began to stir. His eyes opened to the majestic vermillion forest that lay before him. He still appeared to show his depression from the previous night, but even he had to admit the sleep was nice. In fact, he had wondered why it felt so comfortable. Sorel wasn't convinced to stand up even since he didn't want to leave his well deserved spot. He lay in his head back onto the grass and began to think.

He saw Setrastrasza begin to walk towards him from the back of the tree's stump he was near. She had probably been waiting for him; probably watching, too. Waiting and watching. She sat down in front of Sorel, mocking his body position. "I see you have woken up," She said while putting her head down on the grass like his, "How are you feeling?" Sorel sighed, "Better."

That's good to hear, Sorel."

A pause. Setrastrasza started another conversation, "Listen, I want to apologize for acting so rude to you yesterday. You didn't deserve to be treated like you were from me, Vordrastrasz, and the others. We are all sorry, Sorel. We should have listened to you before we judged you so quickly."

Sorel didn't look any different after he had absorbed what Setrastrasza had said. He merely stared blankly at her, still showing his depression. Setrastrasza had become very concerned for Sorel. She could see even now all of what he was going through. He was like a little child trying to find his family that had been killed by a catastrophic tornado. It was all so very sad.

"It's alright," Sorel finally said, "you had good reason to act the way you did."

"No, Sorel." Setrastrasza now just wanted to make him feel better, "You really didn't. We acted so stubbornly and foolishly to someone who begged us for help."

"Perhaps." He sighed, "Much has happened to me. Things that I don't understand why, I mean. It's been very hard for me to cope with all of what I have lost and what I can never have again. I just don't understand... I just wish..." Sorel stopped. He couldn't think of how to say what he wished for.

"Well, regardless of what has happened, you need to understand how to be a dragon now; one of us. You aren't human anymore. You won't make much progress with thinking you still are. We can't change you back, Sorel. You are a dragon now."

She was right. He couldn't continue to believe he was something he wasn't anymore. It pained him to try and look ahead as a dragon, but he was going to have to. He had no choice.

Sorel finally stood up on all-fours. He expanded his wings. The golden sun tore through the shade and bathed his body. The wind stirred. Setrastrasza lifted her head up at him and smiled, "Go to the ledge overseeing the Wetlands, Sorel. I can see in your eyes of what you must do." Sorel headed to the edge of the cliff. He looked below at the swamps and marshes of the Wetlands. The water glistened with the reflection of the sun. He saw far in the distance Baradin Bay. He knew if he needed to get over his confusion, he needed to do something that would permanently end all conflicts he had about what he had now become after escaping Tol Barad.

With that, Sorel closed his eyes. He took the largest breath he could, filling his lungs with every ounce of air. His muscles began to tighten and his claws tore into the soil beneath him. He unfolded his wings to their full wingspan. He then did what he had to do. He _roared_. His roar boomed out of his maw and sent a menacing, powerful shriek across the land before him. Several flocks of birds retreated to the skies from their nests in the trees. The roar rang in Setrastrasza's ears and startled all the other dragons in the forest. When Sorel stopped, he opened his eyes. The ground ceased to rumble. His roar echoed several times, each fading into utter silence.

Sorel smirked. Setrastrasza came next to him. She only asked one question. It was the same question Sorel had asked himself after he had been transformed, "So have you decided who you are, Sorel?" He turned to her and nodded confidently. She smiled back at him, "Tell the world who you are, Sorel!" Sorel turned towards the Wetlands once again and bellowed out in a fierce might, _"Hear me, world. The hand of fate has severed my life and torn my memories from my heart. I now stand before you not as a human being of the Alliance, but as a dragon of the Black Dragonflight. With this burden I now bear brings with it a new future and a destiny that I must now strive to fulfill. Let my suffering be witnessed to all who hear my name!" _Sorel then roared his heart out and the world shook in reply. Sorel turned to Setrastrasza who appeared to be standing in awe. He chuckled at her, "You know, that felt pretty good." They both laughed happily.

The sun began to set off on the horizon. The stars had begun to spawn all across the sky. The gust of wind grazed the vermillion forest as Vordrastrasz slumped into a large pond. The water calmed him and relieved the stress of his thoughts. He had been pondering about what to do with Sorel. Although Sorel was an ally to the Red Dragonflight, he was still a black regardless. It would be very difficult for Sorel to stay with them. Vordrastrasz knew not of what he could offer to him. They had all wished to help him, but nobody really knew how. Vordrastrasz sank his head deeper in to the water. _"This is not the place for him."_ He thought, _"He needs to see others that share the burden like his. Perhaps that would help him learn... to be accepted as a black dragon."_

Vordrastrasz lifted his head and body from the pond. The water dripped from his sides, neck, wings, and tail. He strode forth looking for Setrastrasza. The grass crunched under his paws as he continued to walk. There were several small thumps that were given off when he put too much weight on one forearm. Vordrastrasz used his tail to shift his weight more to the rear to avoid possibly waking up some of the other dragons that had begun to sleep.

When he had found Setrastrasza, she was lying down next to Sorel in another nearby pond. Vordrastrasz could see in her how much she wanted to help the poor black. He assumed it was from their first encounter where Setrastrasza acted so territorial to Sorel, almost engaging him in a deadly combat. Sorel would not have survived if that were to have happened. Vordrastrasz couldn't help but smile at the fact she probably felt obligated to help Sorel after giving him a bad first impression. Vordrastrasz knew Setrastrasza was always a very reliable guardian of Grim Batol. Her double sided personality had greatly benefited the Red Dragonflight from invaders. She had a strong heart. She was a well trained to fend off enemies while her kind and pure personality stayed with her. The others greatly admired her prowess.

"Sister," Vordrastrasz said while making a gesture for her to follow him, "I must speak with you." Setrastrasza nudged away from Sorel as the water splashed onto his back. Sorel saw both red dragons walk over a hill and they became out of his sight. Vordrastrasz stopped and turned to Setrastrasza, "Sister, I understand you want to help this dragon. I really do, but you know as well as I that we cannot supply him with the help he needs."

"Why can't we try, brother?"

"We have."

"We aren't trying hard enough, then! Surely there is _something_ we can do."

"Setrastrasza." The mood calmed down a bit as Vordrastrasz glared at her.

"If we can't help him, who can?"  
>"I recall hearing of a godlike being that resides beyond the Dark Portal; one that might hold the key to Sorel's salvation."<p>

"In Outland?"

Vordrastrasz nodded, "This is my advice to give. I would not mention this alternative for him if I didn't believe this godlike creature was true. It goes by the name of A'dal. I would like you to take him to the Dark Portal so that he may seek out his destiny."

Setrastrasza gave him a look of concern, "Will he be okay?"

"He will. I see a burning fire within his heart. He still has a lot to live for. It is very astounding to see someone lose so much only to be given a new life as one of our kind."

Setrastrasza seemed very pleased, yet depressed at this news. She was happy that there was hope for Sorel, but she also did not want Sorel to leave. She wanted to teach him so much, maybe learn from him as well, but she did not want to leave him in his helpless state. Setrastrasza was not the type of dragon to leave someone in need of help. She considered it part of her duty.

"I'll," she began," I'll take him..."

Off in the distance Sorel could see the silhouettes of Setrastrasza and Vordrastrasz walk back toward him slowly. He noticed that Setrastrasza's head was much lower than it usually was. Something must be wrong. Sorel stood up from the pond and walked toward her. He became very concerned as he asked her, "Setrastrasza, are you alright?" A river of tears poured out from her eyes. She looked up at him and barely made out the command, "Fly with me, Sorel." Setrastrasza then stepped back and expanded her wings. She then flapped them till she was airborne and waited for Sorel. Sorel, however, looked up to her with concern and almost felt like defying her wish since he knew something was troubling her. Regardless, Sorel took flight by her side.

They flew for miles, Sorel and Setrastrasza. They passed through the lush area of Loch Modan, the dry desert of the Badlands, and the deep marshes of the Swamp of Sorrows. Sorel then flew ahead of her to try and cut her off. Setrastrasza stopped and hovered in the air with him. Sorel tried to use thought-speak again, "_What ails you, Setrastrasza? Why are we flying so far?"_ She lifted her sulking head at him and then turned to face a pathway that continued to go south, _"Sorel, this is very hard for me to deal with, but the others are right. We can't give you the help you need. We believe there is another person out there that can help you to where we can't."_ Sorel was speechless. Setrastrasza continued, _"Ahead of us lies a portal that will take you to the broken world of Draenor. The being we want you to look for is known as A'dal. We are not sure of where A'dal would be, but we... I know you will find him."_ She paused as the words registered to Sorel. He understood what she was saying. The red dragons did mention to him that they have never come across a situation like Sorel's. They had no idea how to help him. _"Alright,"_ Sorel said, _"Take me to this world." _Setrastrasza nodded and they both continued to fly towards the Blasted Lands.

There were dark luminous clouds that hovered above. The winds brushed some of the reddish orange soil of the Blasted Lands. The energy that radiated from the Dark Portal transformed the land into an almost in hospitable area. Sorel and Setrastrasza flew to a very gargantuan crater that bore into the earth below. They landed on the edge of the crater. A large stone monument stood in the center of the crater. Two large cloaked beings stood at attention on both sides that were carved out of the stone. Their swords in front of them. In the middle was a gateway to another world. The portal glowed an alien green. A low pitched moan coming from the Dark Portal sent chills down Sorel's spine. "This is where I leave you, Sorel." Setrastrasza told him. Sorel turned to her, "So it is. Thank you for your hospitality and understanding. It means a lot to me."

Setrastrasza shifted uneasily.

"Will I ever see you again?" Sorel asked her.

"I was wondering the same thing." She said weakly.

"I see. Let us up our paths meet again someday. Farewell Setrastrasza. Thank you. For everything."

Sorel took wing and slowly flew to the Dark Portal. He gave the red dragon one final look and gestured a goodbye. Sorel entered the portal. He was gone. Setrastrasza stayed where she was, constantly staring into the Dark Portal. A single tear dropped from her eye. The faint sounds of thunder loomed above. Sorel was gone.

The large metal chains held from even larger dwarven statues within Blackrock Mountain creaked as Nefarius walked onto the large boulder of earth that was held in midair by these very chains. Below was the red hot magma that fueled the inactive volcano. He walked down to the lowest level that was only several meters from where a lake of magma was. Nefarius reached in his small pouch on his side and grabbed a pinch of a strange powder. He then released the powder over the boulder. The powder began to create a wall of black dust. A pair of red, menacing eyes glared back at Nefarius. Then a voice came from this dust cloud that sent fear into anyone who wasn't Nefarius, "Speak, my child."

Nefarius kneeled down, "Our experiment project at Tol Barad has paid off well, _father_. After decades of working on perfecting the mixtures, we have finally created the first dragon from a human. The transformation had no lasting side effects and appears to be fairly stable. From what we gathered, these new hybrid dragons have unmatched power from anything else I have seen. This single specimen is more than capable of wiping out armies and hardly flinching."

"Goood..." Said the mysterious voice, "My flight will finally conquer the Spell-Weaver with these hybrids. The world will be devastated by such creatures. Are there others?"

"I am afraid not. Those pathetic overseers left a huge gap in their security of Baradin Hold and the hybrid escaped. He was not given the mind-altering agent, so his will is still his own. I made it more than clear to those responsible of his escape that failure is not an option here. However, the hybrid is lose and we have no sightings or reports of where it could be."

"If he is not found soon, Nefarian, then I will burden you with the gift of a thousand slow and agonizing deaths. I will take that which I first gave you and make you nothing more than a soulless husk. You would not want that to happen, I presume."

"He will be found. We will then test him in the field of battle to see the true extent of these hybrids' power."

"I expect nothing less from my own son. Now go. I grow tired of waiting. Bring him to me when you recover him."

"As you wish." Nefarian bowed to the dark figure, "How have things been in Coldarra?"

"Extremely... distasteful. I have been receiving word that the Spell-Weaver is pulling some tricks out of his sleeves as well. The fool is tampering with powers he thinks he can control, but his age has gotten the best of him. Malygos' time is almost at an end."

"Perhaps if you weren't sucking your thumb in Deepholm, we could actually..." Nefarius paused in midsentence. Fell to his knees writhing in pain. The dark figure's red eyes glowed brighter. Nefarius could feel his insides being set on fire.

"You underestimate the power that has been bestowed upon a dragon aspect." The voice of the dark figure grew much louder, "I am the judgment of life. I choose who may be left to walk this world and who does not. It is I who can remake even this very world into my perfect image. You may deem yourself as the son of death, but I _am_ death. I am the revelation of this world. I can end your life and all you have strived to accomplish with a mere thought. My power is limitless."

The pain was lifted from Nefarius. His body scorched the rock beneath him. He gasped for air and staggered to get onto his feet. "Now," the dark figure said, "leave me. Retrieve the hybrid dragon. Fail to do so, and you will only wish to have the mercy of a quick death." The haze of the cloud that created the dark figure dissipated. The last thing of the dark figure's presence was his deep and low laughter that faded into nothingness. Nefarian limped away.

Chapter VI

Draenor was definitely not what it used to be. Its landscape was sundered by all of the other portals that were opened up. The magical energies tore the world apart. The devastation was seen everywhere. Draenor was not the term people had used to call this place. It was now called Outland... the shattered world. The Twisting Nether shot across the sky between nearby planets and moons along with the billions of stars that faintly glistened far, far off in the distance. And now, with the Dark Portal reopened, Sorel stepped into a world he only could picture in his imagination. Hellfire Peninsula was before him. Geysers of fire occasionally became active across the jagged red landscape.

The demons of the Burning Legion congregated in Hellfire Peninsula after arriving from distant worlds thanks to their teleportation machines. Over the last several days that Sorel had spent here, he was forced to engage in combat with several demons that spotted him. Sorel learned a lot about combat and how to coordinate his body in both offense and defense. One of his favorite discoveries was how to breathe fire. At first, he was surprised on how he even was able to do so. Sadly for Sorel, the first time he spat fire was when he had sank his teeth into the neck of a large, winged demon. His only regret was that the smell seared flesh and smoke stayed inside his mouth for several hours.

Sorel had been searching for days for this A'dal of which Setrastrasza had spoken of. During his time in Hellfire, each day grew longer. The journey for food and water became far more difficult. Hellfire's inhospitable land provided no source of water. The only are with water, however, was contaminated by volatile sludge. Sorel's only choice was to feast off the demons he slew. Their taste was bitter and their insides reeked of foul stenches to which he had never known. He was always reluctant to eat another bite. Regardless, water had to be found... and soon. Sorel began to notice his strength had grown weaker along with a turning stomach. It eventually got to the point that flying was no longer an option. In a final push, Sorel searched for a few more miles before he fell onto his side. Everything began to fade away from him.

Sorel lied unconscious on the ground, surrounded only by the darkness that had enveloped him. He could hear voices in his head. It was unsure of what they were saying, but Sorel made out only one phrase, "He needs help!" The voices began to grow muffled and diminished away into nothingness.

Sorel managed to open his eyes again and found himself back on Tol Barad. He was flying in the sky along with other dragons, too. He could pick out a large ship that had docked in Tol Barad's bay. He saw tiny specs on the beach that continuously moved around. A loud voice rang in Sorel's head, "Intruders! Take them to Baradin Hold!" Sorel's body began to move against his will and he dove down to the beach. He tried desperately to fight against his body, but all attempts were futile. Sorel could then see the figures as his claws extended out. He saw one them fall on his knees. The figure turned his head to face Sorel and it was there that Sorel was the most frightened. Sorel was diving towards his human self. It all began to make sense and yet it horrified Sorel at the same time. With a violent swoop, Sorel caught hold of his human self. He could feel his claws dig into the flesh. The shear impact must have knocked his human self out.

Sorel's world began to fade. Light changed to darkness as cold rusted steel walls encased him. There was a large table in front of him with a human strapped onto it. He then saw the body mutate when a vial poured a black liquid onto it. Scales began to cover the skin. Horns grew on the elbows and head. Blood dripped down several parts of the body as the transformation continued. It wasn't long until a dragon took the place of that human. Sorel crawled back. "No!" He screamed, "Somebody help me!" The world faded to black once again.

Sorel jumped and opened his eyes, breathing hard. He looked around him. He was inside some building. It was a bedroom. Sorel was under the bed's covers. He looked at himself. He didn't have scales anymore, nor a tail, or horns, or any other draconic aspect to him. Sorel was human again. He tossed off his covers and checked the rest of his body. He moved his arms and legs awkwardly. Sorel had become accustomed to the joints of a dragon and the sensation of being human was almost alien to him.

He stood out of bed and took his sweaty shirt off. Walking was nearly impossible, let alone sustaining balance. Sorel fell down twice, both causing fairly loud thumps on the ground. "What's going on up there?" Sorel heard from down the hallway. There were others here. He could hear conversations beneath him. "Go and check on him." Footsteps were heard by the wooden stairway. Sorel looked to the door to see a man rush towards him. "You alright?" He said to Sorel, helping him up. Sorel held onto the pole of the bed to lean on, "I think so, yeah." The stranger gave him a new shirt, "Here, put this on. I'll help you come downstairs."

Sorel nodded as he put on the black shirt the man gave him. The man gestured, "We were lucky to have spotted you out here. Our scouts noticed you just outside Honor Hold. You're fortunate the fel orcs didn't find you." He helped Sorel down the stairs. Sorel felt embarrassed walking down so awkwardly. The man continued, "The name's Sid. I'm the innkeeper here." Sorel nodded at Sid with confirmation, "And I am Sorel."

Downstairs, the innkeeper brought over a chair. Sorel was assisted down into the chair slowly. "You look like you have had a beating out there in Hellfire." Said Sid, offering a nice meal of ice cold milk and syrup covered waffles, "This should help." Hellfire. Sorel swore in his head, "So this isn't a dream..." As much as Sorel wanted to be human again, he didn't like it at all. Ever since he understood that he was now a dragon, he decided that this A'dal person would help him with finding his purpose, not turning him back. But now, Sorel wasn't sure if he wanted to be human again. He was very conflicted.

Sorel looked at the meal Sid had placed on his lap. He began to eat. He was still trying to understand this whole situation he was now in. Nothing really seemed to make sense to him. The most pleasing thing about the meal was the milk. Its coldness rejuvenated Sorel very much so. Sid looked back at Sorel from behind his counter by a fireplace, "We best get you moving out of here soon, Sorel. Marshal wants you out soon for a briefing."

"Marshal?" Sorel thought. He was puzzled.

"The scouts reported you as one of the missing infantry from a convoy that was scheduled to return a few days ago." Sid said, shining up some of his glass, "Where's the rest of the men?"

"I..." Sorel didn't want to blow his newly made cover. Sorel wanted to avoid a conversation about him actually being a dragon. A black one at that, "I don't know. The others were fighting some, uh, demons that attacked our convoy. I saw some being taken as hostages. I wish I knew more."

"Damn shame. The Burning Legion has been pushing a lot of stress on our infantry ever since we arrived here. I'll tell you what though Sorel; the sooner we get out of this hell hole the better."

Sorel took another bite out of his waffles, "When did the marshal want me?"

"Sooner than later. If you think you're capable of getting out, I'll need to have a medic check your vitals before I can let you go."

"Go get him, please."

Sid nodded and left. Sorel immediately stood up and took a deep breath. "Come on, Sorel," he told himself, "Walking isn't hard." Sorel began to walk, trying to maintain balance while giving hard attempts at looking casual. He was very cautious with each step. The feeling was getting back to him, but he definitely had a long way to go. "Alright, not a prob-" He tripped and fell. Arms wrapped around Sorel as he heard someone say, "I gotchya." The stranger helped Sorel back on his feet. "Thanks." Sorel replied, turning to the man.

"You must be Sorel." The man said.

"Yes. I am."

"Pleased to meet you, Sorel. I am Father Malgor Devidicus." He reached out to shake hands with Sorel.

"And you as well."

"Well then, let me do my business and I'll get you on moving out here in no time."

Sorel nodded.

Father Devidicus had Sorel lay on the ground. He then sat on one knee and put his hands about one foot high above Sorel. His eyes closed and the Father began to concentrate. Sorel didn't like this at all. Perhaps Devidicus would sense something was wrong with him. Maybe he could tell Sorel was a dragon. Sorel prayed in thought that this was would not happen. "Oh my," Devidicus gasped, "This is very interesting." "What?" Sorel nervously asked.

"I can sense a great deal of tragedy within you, Sorel. There are things that have happened to you that have changed you." As he continued, Sorel began to grow more and more worried. "I can tell you do not wish to tell of these things. I respect that. But heed my advice, young one: remember of what the darkest night brings. It brings the brightest of days. Do not forget that, Sorel."

Sorel felt relieved, slightly. "Thank you."

"Aside from that, you're clear to meet the marshal right outside. You best hurry."

Sorel nodded with a smile, "I only wish I could tell you of what I have gone through. It is too dangerous for me to tell you, or anyone for that matter... I must go."

Sorel hurried outside. Father Devidicus watched him leave with a stare of concern, yet having a glimpse of faith. It was possible he actually knew what Sorel was. Whether or not it was true that he knew would forever be a mystery to Sorel.

After a briefing from the marshal, Sorel was told to catch up with a tactical elite squadron that was tasked to clear out what was known as the ramparts in Hellfire Citadel. The building itself was massive. It filled in the canyon below from one side to the other. The marshal had mentioned the primary target to kill was known as Vazruden, the Herald. Vazruden was one of the commanding officers of the fel orcs stationed at the citadel by the demon hunter Illidan Stormrage himself. If connection between Hellfire and Illidan was lost, it could spike a great chance of opportunity to take down the citadel without interference of Illidan's minions. Sorel had to hurry to the others who had already started without him. He was offered some standard edition plated armor and a war horse to take him to the ramparts.

When Sorel arrived, he could see the beginning of a trail of fel orc corpses that continued further on down a path deeper into the citadel. He dismounted his steed and gestured it to return to Honor Hold. It reared up as it whined and dashed back to safety. Sorel took a deep breath and followed the bodies.

"_Well, what do we have here?"_ Sorel looked around, he saw nothing. The voice continued_, "Why are you hiding yourself from the others? Reveal your true form, trespasser!"_ Sorel realized it was thought-speak. How though? _"Who is there?"_ asked Sorel, _"I am human! How are you talking to me if I am not a dragon?"_

"_Lies! I could sense your presence from a mile away! You are cloaking yourself in that foolish human form of yours. Do not think you can fool one such as me!"_

"_Show yourself then, dragon! Let my blade do the talking!"_ Sorel took out his broadsword. He held his ground and looked around to find his draconic enemy. No reply returned to Sorel, nor did anything else. Sorel didn't understand. He looked and felt human. How could he be a dragon when he clearly wasn't? It didn't make any sense to him. He continued to walk deeper into the ramparts.

Sorel could see exactly why they were called fel orcs. The lower canines of the jaw were ridiculously elongated to almost the size of a troll's. Their skin had turned red like the rest of Hellfire. All the way down their spines were spiked bones that pierced through their skin. They were truly monsters of the demonic energy that mutated them. They all wore either heavy steel armor or dark leather. There were often seen wolves that the fel orcs must have tamed as well. The bloodshed had bathed each of them with the color of a dark rose.

The sound of clashing metal resonated in Sorel's ears. He must be close. He sprinted past several barricades and up a spiral walkway. The vibrating swords hummed in his head. Sorel reached an opening that took him to outside of the second level. He saw many more bodies of orcs on the ground that surrounded several people still standing and in conflict. There were two fel orcs; one carrying a giant claymore, the other powerful iron bow. The bowman jumped back and began to fire several arrows at their opponents. Those fighting against them consisted of a draenei, a human, and two dwarves. The draenei's robe glistened in blue with her hands glowing bright with each spell cast. "A priest, no doubt." Sorel thought. The two dwarves seemed to resemble the other quite well. More than likely they were brothers. One of them wielded a large-barreled rifle with the other a pair of dirges. The human bore the shield of Lordaeron and a mighty sword to compliment the shield. "So it's a priest, a rogue, a hunter, and a warrior." He thought.

The orc warrior clashed blades with the other warrior. The human then slammed his shield into the orc's face like an uppercut. The shield's impact threw the orc into the air. The orc bowman launched an arrow that knocked the sword out of the human's hands. One of the dwarves jumped off the human's shoulders and dove at the bowman archer. With two flicks of his wrists, his daggers spun in the air. The wind hummed violently with the daggers twirling and sang the lament of death for the archer. The song ended with an abrupt slice through the orc's throat. He was dead before he fell to the ground. The orc warrior charged at the human, sword held up high. The human blocked the attack with his shield and tripped the orc with his right foot. The orc fell on his back. The human then held his shield up onto the orc's chest. He reached for his sword and drove it into the orc through a small hole in the middle of his shield. It was all rather impressive to Sorel.

The four noticed Sorel. They sheathed their weapons and approached him, the warrior was still breathing deep. "You must be our tag-along. Ya missed out on some glorious fighting. Them fel orcs are trained greatly for combat." He extended his hand, "Commander Duron."

Sorel shook his hand, "Sorel. Sorry I'm late. I had to get some things before I came."

"Not a problem. It'll be nice and easy now with you here. They got more of us to deal with now, hah." A pause. The draenei nudged Duron with her elbow, "Oh, the others. Well, this here is one of our most revered healers, Elsaana." Elsaana took a bow. "She's one of the draenei we took in from the Temple of Telhamat. Over here we have Gunny and Daggy. They're brothers both recruited from Ironforge." Gunny twirled his gun in the air while Daggy chugged down a beer from his backpack. Gunny began to fight with Daggy over the beverage like typical dwarves.

"Well then, let's continue forth." Duron said, "Vazruden ain't gonna kill himself, ya know." They ventured on.

"I see you haven't left." The voice began to haunt Sorel again. Sorel looked around and still saw nothing, but kept up to pace with Duron and the others. Sorel replied, "I see you haven't decided to show yourself!"

"You're not worth the effort, but I will tell you this: I am Nazan. Tell me, seeing how much of a fool you are, why are you trying to believe you are something you're not? You say you are human, but you are communicating with me with an adaptation only fit for dragons such as ourselves."

Sorel remembered Setrastrasza's remark. "You aren't human anymore. We can't change you back, Sorel. You are a dragon now." He could hear her voice say it how she did before. There was something about her that really spoke to Sorel, but hearing this Nazan speak similar words began to anger him. "You are about to make a terrible mistake."

"Oh, I'm so scared!" Nazan mocked him, "I am trembling at the thought of what you'll do to me!" His voice lowered and sounded more threatening, "YOU are the one who is making a terrible mistake. Come then, fool. Face me. I will take pleasure in tearing you limb from limb."

Sorel gripped his sword hard. The leather tightened on the hilt. The pupils in Sorel's eyes began to compress from the sides as the iris color turned from brown to yellow. "Hold friends," Elsaana said as she held out her arms to stop the others, "Vazruden is just ahead." They all looked down the pathway before them which lead to a giant platform where two fel orcs were. However, it was what was in the sky above that caught their attention. A dragon, a netherdrake to be more precise, strapped with armor circled in flight around the platform. There was another figure on the dragon though, it was Vazruden. The description of him was very precise from Honor Hold: large and bulky, armor resembling a highly ranked officer of the Horde, and a short temper. It also noted that Vazruden was highly trained in swordsmanship. He would not be easy to take down.

The netherdrake caught eye of Sorel and stared him down intently. "Ah, so we meet face to face." The voice of Nazan entered Sorel's head once more. The netherdrake caught eye of him and stared him down intently. The netherdrake must have been Nazan. Sorel scolded down Nazan, sword in hand.

Nazan continued, "Well... I am waiting."

Chapter VII

Duron gathered around Elsaana, Gunny, Daggy, and Sorel. Sorel appeared to not be interested in what Duron had to say. Duron shrugged and began, "So, here's what I'm thinking. Elsaana, stay behind the rest of us and heal at a safe distance." She nodded in confirmation. Duron continued, "Daggy, Gunny, do what you do best. And Sorel," Duron pointed at Nazan, "that dragon is going to cause us issues if we don't distract it. Would you do the honor?" "Gladly." Sorel replied. "Good." Duron said.

Nazan roared in the distance. "You have faced many challenges," Vazruden yelled to them, "a pity they were all in vain!" "Ready your arms!" Duron commanded, "Wait for my signal!" Nazan landed on the platform just ahead. Vazruden dismounted from him and lifted his metal bladed polearm in their direction. Vazruden yelled once more, "Soon, your people will kneel to MY lord!" He dashed at Duron.

Duron charged at him ordering the others to attack as well. Nazan shot fireballs at Daggy and Duron, missing all three times and then took to the sky. The blades of Duron and Vazruden clashed. Gunny tossed Sorel a quiver with arrows and a wooden bow, "Ya'll need these, lad." No sooner Gunny took out his rifle and ran to Elsaana. Sorel strapped the quiver to his back quickly. He heard fire again. Sorel looked up to see a ball of flame hurl at him. He quickly jumped out of the way as the fireball slammed into the rock beneath his feet. "You'll have to be faster than that, Sorel!" Nazan told him through thought-speak. "We'll see about that..." Sorel told himself.

Duron slammed his shield into Vazruden's chest. Vazruden retreated back several feet with Daggy right on his tail. He heard Daggy grunt as he jumped in the air to land an attack on him. Vazruden turned and thrusted his foot into the dwarf and then sent him flying with a hit from his polearm. Daggy landed hard and rolled to a stop. He quickly grabbed a covered stein of beer from his backpack, "This should do the trick!" He exclaimed. He chugged down the alcohol in happiness.

Duron caught up to Vazruden who sliced his polearm into Duron's shield. The two began to struggle to get their weapons dislodged. "Gunny," Duron yelled, "shoot him!" Gunny looked intently through the sight of his rifle. He mumbled to himself about cursing the makers for being too sober to make a good shot. He fidgeted with the aiming until he pulled the trigger. The gun fired and its kick nudged Gunny back a few inches. The bullet pierced through the shoulder pad on Vazruden's right shoulder and tore off the strapped leather that held them in place. His shoulder pads fell to the ground. "Damnit Daggy!" cursed Gunny, "I told ye to get me more ammo at Honor Hold! I'm out!" He sheathed his two quick bladed swords and ran over to aid Duron and Daggy.

Nazan soared above laughing at Sorel's futile attempts at archery. None of the arrows even got close to him. Out of his boredom more than his amusement, Nazan decided to find someone more interesting to antagonize. Sorel saw Nazan fly beyond the reach of his arrows. Nazan's attention moved to Daggy who had been revitalizing his drunken stupor. "Daggy!" Sorel yelled, "look out!" "What?" Daggy replied. He saw a dark shadow envelop him. He turned around to see Nazan reaching out with his claws. "Put me down ye dumb dragon," Daggy said drunkenly, "I got beer to drink, orcs to kill and..." Nazan released Daggy over the ledge. Nazan watched Daggy plummet to the ground. Wait. Daggy was hardly moving. Sorel saw Daggy falling, but slowly. He could hear him say, "... and people to see, and places to go, and..." Gunny laughed, "Good job drinkin' the enchanted ale, mate!" Sorel seemed to find it humorous as well. "Sorel!"

_Slam!_

Nazan fell onto Sorel and pinned him on the ground. Sorel cried in pain. Nazan's paws were crushing his hands with his extreme weight. "Now!" Nazan told him, "You are mine!" He struggled to break free of Nazan's grasp. Elsaana was horrified at the sight. Duron cried out Sorel's name, but could not get Vazruden off his back. "You should have never come here, Sorel," Nazan said, "You are weak, foolish, and helpless to challenge me. Now, you must die!" Nazan opened his maw and the bottom of his throat began to glow. "No!" Sorel yelled, "You underestimate my power!"

Nazan could feel Sorel's strength increase more and more. He continued to prepare a powerful fireball. Sorel yelled in fury. It pierced through everyone's ears and disoriented Nazan. "What is this?" He asked. Sorel's cry was not one of a human, but a roar of a dragon. Nazan's power was outmatched by Sorel as Nazan was thrown into the air. It was then that a powerful slice tore into Nazan's armor. The amount of force sent Nazan crashing down onto the platform. Gunny looked up, "What the hell is that?" Above was the silhouette of a mighty dragon, eclipsing the celestial stars far away in the Twisting Nether. "Nazan!" The dragon cried out, "Slave of the fel orc leader Vazruden the Herald, your end has come!" The silhouette faded. A majestic black dragon stood before them all. One that went by the name of Sorel. Nazan saw the claw marks Sorel had inflicted upon his armor. No doubt ran into his mind that had he not worn that armor, Sorel would have easily slashed and torn into his scaleless flesh. A fatal blow was prevented. "Now," Nazan thought, "things have become interesting."

Sorel dove down at Nazan. Nazan quickly got up and took flight. The two began to chase each other around Hellfire Citadel. Sorel shot several fireballs at the netherdrake. Sorel didn't anticipate Nazan's great agility. Sorel tried another tactic. He tried to cut off Nazan to get near him for an attack. At the chance, he went for it. Sorel flew into a barrel roll to cut off Nazan from the left. Nazan quickly saw him with the corner of his eye and maneuvered himself in a series of flips and turns and managed to pursue Sorel now.

Duron and Gunny continued to spar with Vazruden. Elsaana kept them constantly healed. Vazruden was able to hold off the two of them while still maintaining a more defensive stance. Their blades continued to clash violently. Vazruden knocked Duron back and caught Gunny's swords between his polearm. It took a simple spin of his weapon for Gunny to release his sabers. Vazruden saw Duron come after him yet again and Gunny was turning to pick up his blades. He swung his polearm through Gunny's thigh and met Duron's shield. Duron decided to make a very gutsy move, one that would determine the outcome of this battle. He threw out his arm and released his shield. The momentum of the shield threw back Vazruden's arm and weapon. Duron quickly brought his blade through the chest of the fel orc and clashed blades with him. However, the striking blow was too much for Vazruden. His polearm was tossed from his hand and flew to the ground. With a quick blow, Duron brought his sword around again and lunged it into the heart of Vazruden. It was over. They both knew it. "My lord," Vazruden gasped, "will be the... end... of you all..." He collapsed to the ground and took his final breath of air.

Sorel had grown too used to the feeling of being chased down. He looked behind him. Nazan was gaining on him. If Sorel wanted to do something, now was that time. He quickly landed on the upper level of Hellfire Citadel and turned to face Nazan diving at him. He braced for the impact. Nazan slammed into Sorel like a bullet. As quick as he could, Sorel used the momentum to roll and throw Nazan head first into a concrete wall. Debris from the collision formed a thick gray cloud. Sorel managed to stand up again weakly. Nazan still managed to pack a hard punch. Not only that, but his headpiece tore into the side of his shoulder. Blood spatter covered Sorel. Nazan was very powerful, enough to cause all of that damage along with the wounds all over his body. His own blood seeped between his black scales and traveled to the lower part of his stomach.

He heard boulders churn and cries of pain. As Sorel moved closer, the smoke began to dissipate. Nazan lay on the ground, impaled by debris and his broken armor. "S-... Sorel...!" Nazan coughed out weakly. Sorel saw the pain he was in. Nazan wouldn't be able to walk out of this alive. "Had enough?" Sorel asked him.

"Please," he muttered, "let me speak."

Sorel spoke not, but nodded his head.

"You managed to free... me from the will... of Vazruden, but my will is broken and my time... has come. Look at us, Sorel. We are siblings of Deathwing... fighting to the death... Has it really come to this?"

Sorel was astounded. Nazan didn't know the truth behind him. Perhaps it was best not to tell him. "I take to heart at what you said to me since I arrived here," Sorel said, "I cannot allow you to live, but I will grant you a swift death."

Nazan shifted in pain, "I... I have seen enough. Take me away from this world Sorel. I wish... to be with the other fallen Netherwing drakes."

Sorel nodded. He lifted his long tail into the air. Nazan stared into the Twisting Nether above. He closed his eyes. Sorel's tail slammed into his neck. Both Sorel and Nazan were silent.

The air's serenity was broken. Pain rushed into Sorel's left shoulder. Sorel hissed and turned to see – Duron. "Leave this place, Sorel! Or we will end you just like Vazruden" Sorel looked back at Nazan's dead body, then back to Duron and the others. "So be it." Sorel told them. Sorel grabbed an item by Nazan's feet and took to the sky. The buffet of wind forced Duron and Gunny to take a few steps back. Sorel flew west towards an unknown future.

Elsaana looked at Nazan. She saw all of the wounds and blood Sorel gave him. Duron continued to watch Sorel fly into the far distance. Gunny began searching around Nazan's body. Elsaana noticed all the armor was either bent or broken. It wasn't a very pleasurable sign. Not one piece was in good condition. "Aw, damn it!" Gunny swore, "Sorel, he took Nazan's riding crop!"

Elsaana shrugged, "Why would you need that?"

"For me quest!" Gunny exclaimed, "That Sorel's a ninja!"

Chapter VIII

Setrastrasza couldn't remember exactly how long she had been staring into the Dark Portal. Its eerie resonating hum would not leave her at peace. A part of her was wondering why she had to come across Sorel. She wanted to believe she did everything she could to help him, but deep down a feeling of failure had began to grow. It was failure that she could not stand. Setrastrasza had been tasked with many things; most of which she was exceptionally well at doing. The few 'other' things were in out of the ordinary situations and she had no idea how to tackle them. The most recent one was when three mountain ettins wandered into their territory. Setrastrasza's problem began when Vordrastrasz called her to aid the others with fighting against the ettins. She had no prior experience with fighting them and she was not very comfortable with learning on the job either. She could remember trying to find a weak point, but all attempts were futile. It was when one of the ettins knocked her from the air that failure consumed her. One of the other dragons had to save her from the ettin's finishing blow. It was that same failure Setrastrasza saw with Sorel. She refused to be burdened with that feeling again.

And now, after seeing Sorel enter a new world of hell, Setrastrasza was concerned about whether or not she failed him. Staring into the Dark Portal didn't help much, either. Whatever was happening to Sorel, she had to convince herself to believe that she did as much as she could do to help Sorel. She unfolded her wings and took to the sky. Setrastrasza tried to flush out what might have happened to Sorel. She was half-tempted to enter Outland and find him. She did have a duty to Grim Batol, though. She did not want to disappoint the others... not after disappointing herself.

It didn't take long to return to the Vermillion Redoubt. Grim Batol's shadow intruded the fog that covered the forest. Setrastrasza had to fly at lower altitudes to breathe easier with all of the humidity. All of her body was entirely damp when she landed. Nobody was there to greet her. It was not like the Red Dragonflight to not welcome those who had returned from a journey. It was a sign of respect and gratitude. She wandered across the woods in search of the others. She dashed through the forest and scanned the area. Tree limbs slapped at her face and sides as she ran through thick brushes. Still, there was nothing. The fog began to thicken.

Then she heard a faint echo of what sounded like a roar from Vordrastrasz. Not here. Close though. In the mountains. She took to the sky. The fog blinded her vision. The only mountain that was close to where she was would have to be Grim Batol. She flew up higher and higher out of the fog. Grim Batol was the only other thing that punctured it. She could see other dragons circling the abandoned city. Setrastrasza immediately soared towards them. The beating sound of her majestic ruby wings propelled her as fast as she could to the others.

She could see Vordrastrasz and landed at his side. "Sister," he said, "you've returned." "What is happening?" Setrastrasza asked. Vordrastrasz gestured to the north, "You tell me, sister." The horizon in the north revealed something she had never seen before. Waves of pulsing light scattered across the sky, moving away from its point of origin. Awe struck her instantly. "What," Setrastrasza began, "what is that?"

"We have reason to suspect Malygos is behind this."

"These are... massive energy pulses of powerful arcane magic. Do you really think Malygos is causing this?"

"I am certain. No other being alive can muster the raw power you see before you. He seems to be gathering his strength."

"Strength? For what, a war? Do you not see the see the sheer magnitude of this magic? I think he already has it."

A thunderous boom rumbled in the distance.

"Setra," Vordrastrasz replied, "you are the only one here that knows anything about arcane magic. Find others, magi perhaps, who know magic like you do. Prepare them for what I fear might be a battle of the ages."

"Brother, is that what our Queen would do? Such matters are highly dangerous. Not to mention that -"

"She would want us to do what is best for all of us. She trusts me like I trust you." Vordrastrasz looked deep within Setrastrasza's swelled eyes, "And you know how much I trust you."

"I... I do, brother."

Vordrastrasz smiled.

He never just went on assumptions. Vordrastrasz had a natural talent with connecting the links of a situation to find some sort of resolve. It had served him well with Sorel, at least. He didn't trust Sorel at the beginning. There were far too many other occasions where the Red Dragonflight caught hold of the blacks attempting to enter Grim Batol. It was his sworn duty, ordered by Alexstrasza herself. Matters such as these were taken very seriously when the Dragon-Queen met with others in person. But with Sorel wandering around, he had a very difficult time choosing who to trust more. There were times, even now, that Vordrastrasz questioned his reasoning to trust Sorel. He knew without Setrastrasza urging him, he would have killed Sorel easily. He sometimes felt like it interfered with their sibling relationship. Vordrastrasz had been trying to fulfill his duty and also loving his sister, but tension began to rise with much of this Malygos ordeal. They were not the only dragons to have noticed the strange activity, but they would not be the last, either. But in regards to Sorel, he trusted his sister and did not want to make matters any worse.

He looked to his sister, "Then go. Find others. Warn them." Setrastrasza jumped into the sky and nodded. She flew to the southwest. Vordrastrasz continued to watch her. "Stay safe." He told himself.

Deathwing, the corrupted Black Dragon Aspect of Death, the once noble Neltharion, Aspect of Earth, towered over the dwarves and goblins that had been smelting his new armor. They had to use a series of platforms and elevators to reach all around his gargantuan body. The hissing sound of red hot adamantite metal being dipped into water echoed the cavernous deeps of Deepholm. The steel cranes lifted gigantic metal plating, nearly white hot. The chains rattled as the cranes moved the armor into place. Deathwing's body as malformed and misshaped as it was had been tearing him apart. The glow of magma emanated from all of the openings around his body. It seeped between his scales, from his throat, wings, practically everywhere. There were a few large opening wounds, however. The biggest was the middle of his chest. Molten lava dripped down from the large gash. The goblin and dwarven workers had very short shifts due to the intense heat that radiated from Deathwing.

The red glowing metal finally pressed onto one of his wounds. The sound of hot metal fusing with flesh and scale sent a shrill cold down everyone's spine. The Black Dragon Aspect roared menacingly in agony. He shook violently. His tail slammed into one of the cranes. The crane swayed off its supporting foundation and crashed onto one of the elevators. The weight of such a structure instantly crushed anything or anyone in its path.

Deathwing's torment was legendary; the Old Gods' whispers, striving for power, betraying his brothers and sisters, and now this. He had seen it all. But now, his moment he had been waiting for was drawing ever so nearer; not only that, but Nefarian's work with the hybrid dragons was also coming along well. Perhaps this would be the one project Nefarian won't fail on. However, Deathwing wanted his lost experiment.

Never before has a human been transformed into a dragon. If it was like his son had mentioned, then Deathwing would have a similar control of these hybrids like when he possessed the Demon Soul. But the loss of that very power brought him to Deepholm in the first place. Most of these wounds were from an infuriated Alexstrasza who suffered to see her children slain before her very eyes. After that horrendous loss, most believed the Black Aspect died, too fatally wounded to have survived such a battle. But this... this was what everything has leaded up to. He relished in the shadows. It was here where his wounds mended. The darkness was his sanctuary. Azeroth and its light had to be remade in this shadow. All of Deathwing's dreams were soon at hand. But the escaped hybrid was his main concern. What was his name, though? The whispers of the Old Gods spoke to Deathwing once more.

_ "Deathwing. Your cries of suffering... have brought with them despair to the earth... Your tragic life will soon reward you... greatly. These dragons... of which Nefarian has created bring with them the potential to enslave the mortal races... and also grant the return... of the age of dragons! The world... will be yours, Deathwing. There will be nothing to stand against your supremacy...! You... are our chosen one. You have the power of the Gods... coursing... through your veins!"_

Another piece of red hot adamantite armor scorched immediately where it touched on Deathwing's body. Deathwing roared again in horrific pain that completely overwhelmed him, "THE LAND WILL WEEP AND THE WORLD WILL BREAK!" The loud bellow echoed countless times. All of the workers had become disoriented by the extreme loudness.

_ "The one that got away... from Nefarian, your own son... the pathetic mortal that believes he is a dragon of your brood... his name..."_

The Aspect of Death growled. His eyes thinned to a menacing stare. He began to breathe harder and harder. He roared with unimaginable anger, "Tell me. Tell me his name!"

And they did.

"_Sorel..."_

Chapter IX

Sorel, although severely beaten and bruised, continued to fly further through Outland. Past the harsh terrain of Hellfire Peninsula was the more pleasant area of Zangarmarsh. Sorel could see nearly every single hue of blue he could have imagined. Mushrooms, giant mushrooms, covered the land. They all either had a blue or orange glow to them. Perhaps they scenery would be pleasant to witness during the night. The wildlife chirped and sang. Sorel almost believed he was in some sort of a jungle... but much more blue. Everything appeared to be blue, actually. The sky, ground, water, mushrooms, and wildlife were all different kinds of blue. This truly discombobulated Sorel. It was all alien to him.

He landed on the top of one of the gigantic mushrooms. "Finally," Sorel thought, "rest." It was a long journey from Hellfire Citadel. He didn't bother trying to calculate how many miles he had flown. Then again, he didn't really care to know. The view was nice here, though. He could see to the far corners of Zangarmarsh. To the north were the spiked mountains of Blade's Edge. Sorel felt intimidated by those mountains. He did not believe for one moment that A'dal would be in such a hostile environment.

Water. Sorel heard the lake's waves gently fall onto the shore. It was a very relaxing feeling. His stomach began to growl. Sorel couldn't remember the last time he had a nice refreshing drink. He began to fly and hovered down near the shore. All of Sorel's stress faded when his paws touched the water. The water was cold, yet very refreshing. He began to drink to his heart's content. The water rejuvenated him. Sorel continued to go into deeper water. A quick pain coursed through him as the cold liquid filled into his cuts, scratches, and wounds. Then, a moment later, the pain simply vanished. He could stay there if he chose to. In fact, he actually did want to stay there if it weren't for finding A'dal. Sorel's fate lied in the hands of this strange being and he didn't want to have any more setbacks.

Sorel regretfully lifted himself out of the lake and flew onwards. It was his instinct that he depended on for his journey. After all, it has been the reason Sorel was still alive. Had it not been for these gut feelings he has had, Sorel wouldn't have escaped the naga in the first place. Derek and the others would have probably faced a similar fate, however. It was hard for Sorel to not let the memory of the others get in his way. There were still nights where Sorel would cry himself to sleep and dream of what would have happened if he tried to rescue his friends. The outcome was either finding them dead or to save them only to be trapped in Baradin Hold forever. Neither option pleased Sorel at all.

The water dripped down across his body, scales, and wings. It gave Sorel a sense of serenity after seeing how crystal clear the water was. But Sorel needed to continue forth with his journey. He spread open his wings, letting the water sparkle and glisten in the air. Sorel flew up high and soared across the exotic scenery of Zangarmarsh.

He began to fly south. After a long stretch, the terrain began to change. Trees began to appear. They all had elongated trunks that were at least 100 feet high. They had these strange spheres on them that illuminated brightly. The sky was cloudless, but something had caught Sorel's attention. There was a very far and distant beam of light that pointed into the sky. Sorel saw it in his best interest to investigate. He weaved through the tree lines in the direction of the mystical light. He started to travel faster and faster, beating his wings harder and harder. Sorel began to show a smile on his face as he hardened his skill. He became more agile with each sharp turn. It reminded him of Nazan, quite frankly. The only things that were different were that there were many obstacles and Sorel was actually enjoying himself. He looked at Nazan's Riding Crop he had taken as a memento of him. Perhaps it carried Nazan's essence with it. Sorel did not feel like he was alone. All was well. Nothing could possible ruin this moment for Sore-

_Smack!_

Well, until Sorel ran straight into a tree, that is. The tree became uprooted and tumbled down to the earth with a loud thud. Perhaps Sorel's attention span would need more work. The strangest thing he was able to notice was how lacking in pain the impact caused. He was able to walk away without any cuts or bruising. Maybe Sorel was much more different than he first thought.

Sorel looked at the damage Nazan had caused. Although there were many cuts, scars, and scratches, hardly any of them appeared to be fatal blow. He was starting to wonder why he was traveling as fast as Nazan, too. Nazan surely had been trained to acquire tremendous speeds, but Sorel had been right on his tail. Something was definitely out of the ordinary. Although Sorel did happen to have scales compared to Nazan, he was more than certain that shouldn't have prevented as much damage as he received.

He lifted his head from the ground. Immediately, Sorel was astounded at what lied before him. A city. The structures were entirely made out of stone with finely crafted details. He could see two main bridges that connected the upper tier of the city to the outside. The lower tier appeared to be very run down. The rocks and stones were jagged and massive across the ground. Sorel could see ripped and torn cloth being held from the walls of the upper tier, some on the bridges.

There was a very oddly shaped structure in the middle. It was in the shape of a dome at a glance. A further look showed a mosaic of many smaller stone structures creating the appearance of a dome. A large beam of light extended out from the top of it. It went up as high as Sorel could see. This was it. This was the place Sorel had been looking for. He did not know what awaited him here, but he stood confidently knowing that he had to continue on his journey.

However, there was one problem that he came across. There were guards near the entrance. Sorel assumed he would get the same reaction like back with Duron if he revealed himself. If only he wasn't a dragon. Then, it struck him. There was a way for Sorel to change back into his human self. But the question that arose was how. He began to think and sat down in the grass. How did he do it before? All he could remember was just waking up human again. Maybe the answer was to sleep, even though it probably wouldn't happen again. It had been a couple weeks since this whole mess started.

There had to be a way.

Sorel lied down and closed his eyes. He tried to picture himself being human again. He tried to remember what it was like to not have a tail, wings, horns, scales, and everything else. He wanted to move his arms and legs like a human again. Sorel wanted to run and sprint across the trails. He felt a tingling feeling in his paws. Then it traveled down his arms into the rest of his body. He could feel the changes occur. And in a few moments, it was over. Sorel opened his eyes and he beheld not his draconic self, but his old human self once more. There was... only one slight problem. Sorel did not have any clothing on. This would not do.

Sorel looked at the brush at his side. It didn't please him at the idea, but he had no other option. He took twigs and created a structure around his waist. He then threw the leaves onto the wooden skeleton. It quickly covered his legs and looked more or less like a kilt. A poorly, poorly made kilt. Sorel sighed. He felt embarrassed just looking at it, let alone wearing it.

Sorel now had to get the attention of the guards. He didn't want to commune with them much. Perhaps if he looked like he needed aid. He roared as a dragon with a tremendous amount of volume and quickly fell to the ground and acted crippled, weak, and desperate. No sooner, the guards rushed could be heard running on their elephant-like elekks. The guards were draenei: one male and the other female. They wore cloth robes but were well equipped for combat. Sorel could see them scanning the area. The female pointed at his direction and they both hurried to him.

The elekks thumped to a halt. The guards quickly jumped off their mounts and helped Sorel up. "What happened? Are you alright?" The woman asked. Sorel moaned in reply. "You..." Sorel began, "You must... help me." "Don't worry," she exclaimed, helping Sorel stand up straight, "We'll take you somewhere safe." The two guards helped Sorel sit on the backs of one of the elekks. The draenei woman sat with Sorel and motioned her elekk to advance back into the city. "Welcome to Shattrath City, stranger." She said to Sorel, "It is known as the city of light. Here you will find peace and serenity from the rest of Outland. We will take you into the Lower City with the others."

"Others?" Sorel asked, "What... others?"

"The Lower City is primarily used as a housing ground for any refugee that we come across. We do what we can to make sure everyone is comfortable here."

Once they arrived into the Lower City, the draenei helped Sorel to his feet and pointed in the direction of the inns nearby. There were many people who looked just like Sorel here. There were humans, orcs, strange ethereal beings, elves, and draenei who all looked vastly more desperate than he. Some had been passing by the guards and begging for some spare coin for meals or trying to feed their children. Some had very rugged and torn shirts on. Some, like Sorel, had hardly anything on. The orcs appeared to be the most broken as they had multiple scars across their chests from mighty claws of some sort. There was a part deep down within Sorel that felt ashamed for mocking them by merely pretending to be a refugee.

After some exploring, Sorel arrived to the inn where he was greeted by another draenei who offered him some more decent clothing. Sorel put on the ragged clothing. It wasn't much, but just some torn up brown shorts and a brown t-shirt that had seen better days. Sorel wished he had some shoes, though. The rocks were very sharp on his feet and it became very uncomfortable walking. He looked up to the beam of light once more. He had to see what was there.

Sorel began to walk through the Lower City to a ramp leading to the upper tier. He bumped into many people along the way. He could see some people being much more dark and mysterious hiding in the corners and behind objects. Sorel often wondered if this was as much of a great place to be as it first appeared. On the upper level was a group of warriors wearing bright yellow armor. They were sparring with each other with their shields and swords. To the right of him was another group of warriors, kneeling down and listening to the words of wisdom from a draenei high priest. He continued to walk forward into the dome-shaped structure.

It was here that Sorel was struck with awe. The light he had been seeing all this time had been emanating from this one magnificent being. It floated in the air and its entire body illustrated a picture of some strange face that Sorel felt only he could recognize. Then there was a hum. No, not a hum. A song. Sorel heard a song of such grace that a warm feeling within his heart began to grow. It made him happy. Sorel could see that the creature was looking at him.

The creature's voice began to ring in Sorel's head,

_"You... You are not like the others... What a story you have to tell. You have seen so much recently. It's all right here, within your heart. You are walking history, stranger. Never before has something of such tragedy befallen a mortal such as you. And here you are, trying to find your place in the world with this second chance at life. You were told well to find me, Seeker. It was foretold someone with such a darkened burden would visit the City of Light for guidance. I welcome you to Shattrath City, Seeker. I am A'dal. You will find your stay here a most relieving one from your journey. What is your name, Seeker?"_

Sorel could not comprehend how A'dal could generate such knowledge of him just by looking at him. Perhaps it was he that was that warm feeling in his heart. Sorel was absolutely amazed. He began to reply, "Sorel. I am Sorel."

_"Sorel, the Seeker. Welcome. I can see within you that you wish to know what fate lies in store for you. I will show you the path you must take. However, be warned Sorel. The path you are chosen to take will let you understand what we consider good and evil. Darkness will consume you. It is only then where you will see what you must do to be pure within the Light. It is something you have been chosen to endure and you alone. Do not lose faith, Sorel. You are destined to show the world tremendous things. You only need one thing to accomplish this: patience. Go now, Seeker. Find the Netherwing dragons within the Lower City. It is there that your true journey begins."_

Sorel nodded at A'dal and returned to the Lower City of Shattrath. He looked atop the upper tier and gazed below. There. Dragons, similar to Nazan, were near the World's End Tavern. Sorel rushed over to them.

The dragons shifted their heads into the direction of Sorel. Sorel looked at the high elf standing next to a campfire and some tents. The high elf greeted him and said, "Welcome stranger, how can we –" He paused. He could sense what Sorel truly was. He too must have been a dragon. "Why have you come here?" The high elf's hand slipped closer to his weapon. Sorel quickly replied, "Please. I am not who you think I am. I come in peace."

"I've heard that one before. What makes you so different?"

And Sorel decided to tell them. The whole story of what had happened to him. The other dragons came closer and listened to his tale. It was no surprise to Sorel that they too, were shocked.

"You have my sincere apologies, Sorel." The high elf mentioned. "I am Barthamus of the Netherwing. The others here from left to right are Jorus, Malfas, Onyxien, Suraku, Zoya, and Voranaku. We are all nether dragons: mutated black dragons similar to yourself, except the changes of us were... unintentional. It was when the many portals tore this world apart that it all happened. I was the first, you know. The abandoned child of a monster..."

"Deathwing?" Sorel asked.

Barthamus nodded, "Here. Let us show you what we have become since our abandoning so many years ago. Let us take wing to Shadowmoon Valley."

With that, both Barthamus and Sorel transformed back into their dragon forms. They along with the other nether dragons took flight and headed towards Shadowmoon Valley. Perhaps they were not so different from Sorel after all. Or, in everyone else's mind, maybe it was Sorel wasn't so different.

Chapter X

Shadowmoon Valley: the infamous land of Outland. It was the housing capital of not only demons, but Illidan's minions as well. Illidan Stormrage was the ruler of Outland with the Black Temple being his throne. It only made sense to call it the 'Black' Temple. All of Shadowmoon was black. Black soil, rocks, mountains... even the sky was black. The dark clouds loomed above. Green lava spewed out of geysers scattered across the area. Most of the far older structures and buildings had been decimated like when a tornado wipes an entire city off the map. There were also low and distant booms of thunder every now and then. Sorel saw this place as a final destination for brave heroes of the Horde and Alliance. The setting, the mood, and the atmosphere were all very sinister. Regardless of the hostile environment, Sorel, Barthamus, and the other nether drakes continued to flay onward.

They flew past a supreme mountain at the heart of Shadowmoon. Barthamus mentioned to Sorel that this mountain was called the Hand of Gul'dan. It was Gul'dan's sorcery in dark magic that helped twist the land and severed the bonds between the shamans and the elements. It is now a monument for the dark past this land bears. There was an open field just ahead. They soared to the lower heights and landed on a manmade trail that created a pathway from the west to the east.

"This is one of our main areas we congregate to," Onyxien said, "the land ahead is infested with rockflayers."

Barthamus added, "Rockflayers are extremely territorial creatures here in Outland. They have been hoarding the area... attacking any of my siblings that try and land for food. They will literally attack anything that isn't of their species."

"Since this has happened, the drakes you see are flying to their deaths. With no breaks in their endless flight, they have grown exhausted and desperate. Some have barely escaped trying to snatch a bite while others never made it back out of harm's way. They can't defend themselves anymore. They are too exhausted from flying. They have been helpless for some time, Sorel."

Sorel couldn't imagine such torture. He could see one of the nether drakes attempt to scavenge the carcass of a felboar. A group of rockflayers had tried to ambush the weak drake. It tried to escape while the rockflayers slashed at its legs.

It was a horrid sight to behold.

"I suppose on the brighter side is that the elven Scryers and the draenei Aldors from Shattrath have been clearing out some of the rockflayers since they moved into here. Their numbers are dwindling. Soon, the other Netherwing drakes can feed. Your tale sounds very horrific, Sorel. However, I believe you and I can both agree their fates have been much worse."

Sorel looked disgusted. He didn't need people to tell him others had it harder than he. He tried to change the topic, "So where are we headed?"

"Not we, Sorel. You. You must seek out the one known as Mordenai. He will brief you with more detail than what we can provide. As for us, we must return to Shattrath."

They began to take wing. Sorel cried, "Wait! How will I find him?"

"You will know. Farewell, Seeker."

They flew off.

There it was again. That word: Seeker. Why was he being called that? A'dal had used that term as well, come to think of it. Sorel decided not to be bothered by it. He had more important things on his mind like finding Mordenai.

Sorel flew up high and scouted where the Netherdrakes soared. He couldn't count how many were up there. He looked below. The rockflayers stood their ground and roared with intimidation. Something inside Sorel began to stir. He could hear the voices of the netherdrakes crying in agony. He could see some of them struggle just to stay airborne. Sorel knew what he had to do.

He dove into a spiral heading towards the ground. The wind plummeted into his face. At the precise moment, he pulled himself upward and spewed out fire from his maw. The fire torched each and every rockflayer it touched. What caught Sorel's attention was that the fire didn't spread onto the soil. Sorel continued to engulf the rockflayers in flame. Their horrific shrieks startled him every now and then. It sounded like a ferocious cat meowing in anger against their opponent.

Silence arose, but there was still ambient thunder and wings flapping. Sorel landed in the middle of the open field and watched the netherdrakes.

One, only one was brave enough to begin descending. That single, lonely netherdrake hovered inches above the ground. With a light thud, the young and weak dragon began to nibble on a rockflayer corpse. Then, one by one, the others began to follow his lead. Sorel couldn't believe what was happening. There were so many drakes feeding. It was incredible.

"Kindness..." A voice said from behind Sorel.

Sorel turned around to see an elf with long white hair. His armor was blue that had been used as sturdy padding over what appeared to be a metal scale suit. His shoulder pads looked very similar to skulls with glowing orbs on the sides. The elf wielded two otherworldly axes. The blades were completely separated from the hilt and were levitating about 6 inches from the hilt. There was a glowing sphere hovering in the middle as well. It glowed bright yellow like the distant sun past the dark clouds above.

The elf spoke once more, "You are a kind and compassionate dragon, friend. Tell me, what is your name?"

"I am Sorel. Barthamus sent me here from Shattrath City. He wanted me to find someone by the name of Mordenai to show me how similar our fates are." A brief pause. "I take it you are Mordenai."

He nodded. "Oh. Please, call me Mordenaku."

Thunder boomed in the distance. Sorel reverted to his human form. He imagined himself in more fitting armor and the armor he dreamed of materialized onto him. Perhaps transformation was actually magical. There was no other logical explanation.

"Mordenaku, I understand the Netherwing and I are from the Black Dragonflight, but why am I here? I can't see my purpose." Sorel said.

"How can you ask a question like that? You just saved dozens of my brothers and sister from starvation and exhaustion! Sorel, I have only known you for mere minutes, but I can tell you are given a great gift by helping others!"

"I felt bad for them, Mordenai. I didn't want them to suffer any longer. I... I suppose I didn't want them to continue to suffer like I have to. Nobody should have to suffer like me."

Sorel began to tell his story to Mordenaku.

"So," Mordenaku began, "you have suffered similar to my siblings, but more in a mental way than I guess physical. Sorel, I can only see one thing to help you. I believe if you help us, it will in turn help you understand your true purpose more."

Sorel began to think. "Setrastrasza always wanted to help me. What if, what if it was my turn to return the favor?" Maybe that was the flame that burned in his heart was. Maybe it was that piece of Setrastrasza that he had held onto. Maybe it was also Nazan within that riding crop Sorel had. He looked at the riding crop and imagined what Nazan and Setrastrasza would want him to do.

Then, he knew what he had to do.

"Alright." He finally said. "I will help you."

"You have made a wise choice, friend." Mordenaku shifted into his dragon form. His entire body became somewhat spectral and transparent. It was almost as if he was a ghost dragon. His pale green and blue look reminded him of a ghost, too. Sorel took on his dragon form as well. They both took to the sky, soaring above the still feeding netherdrakes.

"Where are we going?" Sorel asked.

"To see my father. Allow me to explain. To the south is a fortress held by the Dragonmaw Clan. But they have kidnapped my mother, Karynaku. You see, they are using her to steal her newborn children and bend them to their will. They have tried to capture some of us as well. That is also why the netherdrakes were flying. They were afraid to be captured. We need to stop this, Sorel. Only my father, Neltharaku, has been trying to find a way to stop this."

They continued to fly.

A large dragon, similar to the looks of Mordenaku appeared behind a mountaintop. It must be Neltharaku. "Is that him?" Sorel asked. Mordenaku nodded. They slowed down to a halt in front of a massive spectral dragon. He had been slowly flying over the Netherwing Fields for who knows how long. Neither one of them knew exactly how long.

"Mordenaku, who is this?" Neltharaku asked. "He is a black dragon, Mordenaku. He cannot be trusted. Get him away from here!"

"He isn't like the other black dragons, father! His name is Sorel. He wants to help free mother!" Mordenaku replied.

Neltharaku turned to Sorel's direction. "You... want to help us? No, don't respond. I still do not trust anything that would come out of your mouth."

"Father, please. He is a human! He was turned into a dragon by the Black Dragonflight. He is trying to seek out his destiny. This is where he has chosen to start: to free mother!"

Neltharaku stared defiantly at Mordenaku. A fierce stalemate between father and son. Sorel couldn't tell who was going to win.

"Please, father." Mordenai pleaded.

Neltharaku looked at Sorel in the same defiant stare. Sorel could see in his eyes the pain he must have been through to have his love taken from him. It was a pain that constantly tore at his heart.

"A human..." Neltharaku muttered, "I see. Alright, son. He can help. Let us find a place to discuss.

"Neltharaku," Sorel said shyly, "I really do want to help you. I can see how much pain you are going through. Let me help you get your mate back."

Neltharaku stopped dead in his tracks. He faced away from Sorel, pretending to be oblivious to him as he looked off into the horizon.

"Sorel. You say you can see my pain. You... have no idea what it is like... No idea." Neltharaku continued to fly.

Sorel hovered where he stood. Sorel imagined his father and mother. What must they be going through right now? He couldn't remember the last time he saw them. It must have been before he joined the Alliance Navy. It tore into Sorel's heart to think of what they must be thinking. For all they know, he is probably dead.

Sorel was dead. He died in the wretched steel prison of Baradin Hold. This imposter who had been claiming he was Sorel had brought shame to Sorel. This imposter was only making Sorel's life far much worse.

But what really pained Sorel was that he and the imposter were the same. Sorel felt horrible at that moment, thinking of how his parents would react to see him as he was... a monster. Sorel didn't want them to be tormented any longer. He decided that he should continue to stay dead to them.

And maybe to the rest of the world.

This dragon who claimed to be Sorel was not actually Sorel. Not now.

Not ever.

Chapter XI

Lady Sinestra looked atop of the jagged mountains of Shadowmoon Valley. Her elven appearance matched her personality well along with her name. There were scars all across her body. The markings resembled claws slashing and tearing into her flesh. These scars had malformed the tissue to various degrees. There were portions of the skin on her arms that were burnt around the claw marks. The pigment in the skin varied from the more pink-reddish tone of a blood elf to the charred black color of ash.

Unbeknownst to most of the people Sinestra met, she had another alias. This "Sinestra" character was the disguised form of a powerful black dragon: the Consort of the Black Dragon Aspect. Her true name was Sintharia. She was the original broodmother of the Black Dragonflight. There scars were not from battle of brutality, but they were from Deathwing. Sintharia was the only black dragon to have survived mating with him. The Black Dragon Aspect's entire body was so powerful and hot, the scars were formed only by Deathwing touching her scales. To this day, only Sintharia knows what unimaginable pain Deathwing caused her. She can still feel the pain burning throughout her body.

The overall experience changed her. She became a very dark and defensive individual. Her mood became stationary at being hostile. She had no respect for anyone but herself. The primary thing that kept her from going absolutely insane was her determination as a mother to tend to her children. She had been trying to help Deathwing make his dragonflight more powerful to stand against those that opposed them.

She gazed from the top of the Hand of Gul'dan. Emerald lava spewed out from the volcano. The light of the lava poured onto her dark black hair. Sinestra had a mission. She was on the verge of finding a new way to help procreate her brood. She stared with her keen, yellow, serpentine eyes at her destination. Sinestra was only a few more miles away from finding it. She would have to tell Deathwing what occurred when she finished. In spite of everything he had done to her, Sinestra still loved Deathwing. She would continue to carry out his will until her last, dying breath.

She jumped over the edge of the mountain and began to plummet down to the ground. The wind pressed hard against her face as she continued to fall. Then, wings quickly sprouted from her back and ripped through the back of her armor. Horns emerged on her forehead and her nails turned into claws. At the last possible second, Sintharia pulled upward. She gave the cry of a dragon as she continued to fly into the distance.

Neltharaku was in the middle of explaining the situation to Sorel. He told him that Karynaku had been chained down on the highest tier of the fortress. The offspring were immediately taken into holding pens near the back. There were fel orcs all across the facility that had been in the process of trying to train the whelps and drakes under their command. On top of that, guards constantly were stationed across the fortress as well as sky guards who scouted the area by air. "If we are spotted before we reach Karynaku, the chance of freeing her is lost." Neltharaku stated.

"How will I be able to not be noticed?" Sorel asked Neltharaku.

"Ah, yes. I do believe there is some magic still left in me. The years have certainly not been kind to me." He tried to find some humor out of the situation. With an awkward silence as his reply, Neltharaku looked down in disappointment. "This magic will allow you to take the form of one of the enslaved netherdrakes, Sorel. It only works near that fortress and on the massive crater known as Netherwing Ledge."

"Father," Mordenaku said, "How long until we can free her?"

"Soon, my son. The time is falling closer at hand, but we still need some time before it can begin. We will save her, Mordenaku. I refuse to bear any more than what I have already."

Neltharaku turned to Sorel. "Sorel, I want you to travel to Netherwing Ledge. There, you will need to find out how to remove the sky guards from the area. If they are gone, taking back my love will be much easier to do."

Sorel nodded in reply.

"But first," Neltharaku thought out loud, "You need someone to go with you. Since you'll take the guise of a netherdrake, you will need a rider." He began to space out in his own thoughts. "Ah, yes. Sorel, go with Mordenaku to the Sanctum of the Stars. The Scryers are stationed there. They are plotting against the fel orcs as well. If my memory serves me well, they are trying to weaken Illidan Stormrage's forces before the final confrontation. I see this as a perfect opportunity for both us and the Scryers."

Mordenaku and Sorel looked at each other. They both turned around and began to fly towards the Sanctum of the Stars. Neltharaku called to them through thought-speak, "Make haste, you two! Karynaku's fate rests in your hands!"

Before Sorel and Mordenaku could waltz into Scryer territory, they needed to change back into their mortal forms. The clouds above them, though, began to have very minute rays of light puncture through them. The rays began to multiply and thicken at a slow, but progressive rate. When Sorel's and Mordenaku's transformations had finished, they both stared at the scenery. The dark, black clouds began to dissipate until a large and open hole had torn through all of the darkness. A bright, cyan-tinted sphere of light shined down from the heavens.

Sorel gasped, "What is that, Mordenai?"

Mordenaku squinted his eyes, "That is Azeroth, Sorel."

As Sorel's eyes began to focus the image, the white of the sphere began to fade into blue. Clouds began to form, land began to have definition. The planet of Azeroth revealed its beautiful face to both of them. Sorel could see the continents of Kalimdor, Northrend, and the Eastern Kingdoms. He could even see the small spec of what was Stormwind City. At the heart of the ocean, Sorel saw the churning Maelstrom spiraling around like a stationary hurricane.

"You're lucky." Mordenaku chuckled, "The clouds hardly open up in Shadowmoon."

"This... this is amazing, Mordenai." Sorel replied.

"Isn't it? I've only dreamed of going there. I wish I could, but all of what has been happening here has been more important."

"It's a wonderful place."

"You..." Mordenaku turned to Sorel. "You've been there?"

"That's where I am from, Mordenai. Remember?"

"Oh. Yes... I do. I have forgotten how beautiful Azeroth looked. You must understand, the last time the clouds showed your world was years ago. It is almost one of those once-in-a-lifetime things."

Mordenaku looked down and sighed. Sorel could see how badly he wanted to go to Azeroth.

They both set foot onto the Sanctum of the Stars. All of the buildings were in pretty bad condition. Parts of the structures were torn off and left large cracks across the stone walls. Sorel followed Mordenaku into the biggest of the buildings. He noticed some of the elven guards were eyeing him down. It made Sorel feel less and less comfortable. There were more blood elves inside. They were all scattered around at bookshelves. Both Sorel and Mordenaku looked around for someone. Nothing.

They began to walk back outside. Mordenaku accidentally ran into a very tall blood elf. "Oh," the elf said, "Excuse me." "Sorry..." Mordenaku said shyly, looking for the name to call him.

"Hobb. Commander Hobb." The elf said. Commander Hobb was suited very differently from the others. His armor was tainted black similar to the same color of everything else in Shadowmoon Valley. His shoulder guards reminded Sorel of the face of a demon. The 'mouth' glowed an alien green. "Who might you be?"

"Well, I am Mordenai. This here is Sorel. We're with the Netherwing."

"Ah yes. How is everything with them? I noticed the number of netherdrakes outside has increased dramatically."

"We need the help of the Scryers, Commander. The Dragonmaw Clan has captured my—our broodmother. They are using the hatchlings to become their mounts for possible attacks against you and the Aldor to the north."

"So those damn bastards are making their move, then. Very well. What do you require from us?"

Sorel began to speak, "We need someone to help us go undercover with. We believe if we travel to Netherwing Ledge and are able to get rid of any guards using our drakes out of the area, we can help free our captured."

"I see. Give me a moment to think." Hobb paused for a moment. He then turned to one of the Scryer guardians, "Fetch me Vaelori."

"Who is that?" Sorel pondered.

"Vaelori? She's one of the night elves from the Alliance. Came here to Outland to help put a stop to Illidan ever since the Dark Portal reopened. You'll find her to your liking."

Sorel gave Mordenaku an unconfident look.

Within moments, the sound of wings flapping came closer and closer to them. They all looked up. It was a hippogryph, a half bird and half horse creature mostly found in the wilderness of Azeroth. From the upper stomach and above the hippogryph had avian characteristics whereas the lower half was completely equine. A night elf jumped off the birdlike creature.

"Welcome back, Vaelori." Hobb told her.

"Thank you, sir." Vaelori replied. "What have you called me here for?"

Commander Hobb looked towards Mordenaku. Vaelori looked as well.

"Well, we need your help infiltrating Netherwing Ledge and finding out how to move the sky guards away from that fortress at the end of this field." Mordenaku said.

"Fighting against Illidan, I see." She sighed, "Alright, let's get moving. You owe me for this one, Hobb." Commander Hobb merely smiled and saluted her for dismissal.

She followed Sorel and Mordenaku out of the Sanctum of the Stars. Sorel turned to her suddenly. "Miss," Sorel began, "I want to warn you in advance, we aren't trying to fight Illidan. We're trying to save someone dear to my friend here that is being held in the fortress."

"Ah, I see." She understood, "Who is this someone, though? Do they know we're coming?"

"I don't think so she knows. But the thing about her is... she's a dragon."

"Oh, wow. Well this will make things somewhat more challenging then."

"Yeah. There's something you might also need to know, too. We are also dragons, Vaelori. I need you to be my rider so we can head to Netherwing Ledge."

"Good to know... uh..." Vaelori lost his name.

"Sorel, and that over there is Mordenai."

"Right. So I guess now the only thing left for us to do is make our way to Netherwing Ledge. Let us hurry!"

Chapter XII

"So how does this magic work, Mordenai?" Sorel asked. Neltharaku had given Mordenaku the power to disguise them both as Dragonmaw netherdrakes through a mystical relic that he had tied around his next with some loose string. They had been soaring above the field of netherdrakes with their destination set for Netherwing Ledge. Vaelori had chosen Sorel to ride on. She grasped the sides of his long neck in an attempt to be anchored onto him. Mordenaku was just as puzzled as Sorel was.

"I'm not sure." He replied. "I think our draconic forms will be modified to look like netherdrakes." Mordenaku turned to look at Vaelori. "As for her..."

"The thought of illusionary magic makes me quiver." Vaelori said.

"Don't worry," Sorel assured her, "It should only be temporary."

"Should?" She was still skeptical.

Both Sorel and Mordenaku flew into a large crevice between the mountain formations. It revealed a pathway to the outskirts of Shadowmoon Valley. The land simply went forward and then stopped. They flew over the ledge. "Don't look down, you two!" Mordenaku warned. Unfortunately, his warning was too late for Sorel. Sorel looked down and saw nothing. Nothing but pure darkness. There was a river of lava that poured down into the nothingness of space. Even the bright green color of the molten rock faded as it continued its final descent down, and down, and down.

Sorel quickly looked up and back at Mordenaku, who could not help but smirk at him. "Told you." He said. Then, the relic on his neck began to glow as they neared the gargantuan floating island of Netherwing Ledge. "Sorel," He began, "stay close to me. I hope this works." The relic's light exploded into a sphere, completely consuming Sorel, Vaelori, and Mordenaku. And then, in a split second, it was gone. Sorel blinked multiple times for his eyes to refocus. He even slowed down to avoid any possible collision with the floating boulders that had started to appear.

Sorel examined himself. His scales had vanished and were replaced with smooth skin. The color of his skin had changed to a cyan blue. His wings had become transparent. His tail appeared to be more aquatic as fin-like features sprouted at the tip of his tail. There were strange markings on his underside that glowed in the same color as his skin. Sorel felt his facial structure had changed as well. His nose was pushed out even farther past his mouth. The two horns on the back of his head had conjoined in the center, forming a short but thick horn. The only thing Sorel could think of what his face resembled was that of a shark, just more draconic.

"Ah!" Vaelori exclaimed. "I can't see!" She flailed her arms and hands in a panic. When she pressed her hands on her eyes, she felt some kind of cloth covering them. Vaelori unknotted the band of fabric. She then was astounded to see the changes she had endured. Most of her armor had disappeared. They were replaced with a smooth and black kilt as dark as the night sky. Vaelori's torso and arms had neon green runes tattooed onto her flesh. She wore a tight black leather vest as well. Her once silky lavender hair had lost its saturation and turned snow white; shining brilliantly as it blew constantly into the air by the wind.

"A demon hunter." Mordenaku informed Vaelori. "They are Illidan's apprentices. I am surprised the magic disguised you as on."

"Well," Vaelori thought out loud, "It is a little more... revealing... from what I'm used to." She blushed innocently as she began to adjust her vest and continued to fidget with it until she was satisfied.

When they arrived on the floating island, it became immediately evident that the Dragonmaw orcs dominated the land. The three of them all saw many working fel orcs hammering away at large crystals that had formed like a forest all across the island. Ahead was a long and flat lane with bright, radiant, ruby crystals hovering on both sides. It was an airstrip. They slowed down and landed smoothly onto the end of the airstrip. There were many orcs wondering around the camp right next to where they were. All of whom were walking about, either working on forging weapons at the forge or carrying crystals around the camp. There was a manmade pit farther ahead. There were wooden spikes that were placed along the edges, tipped in blood. There was a brawl inside that same pit. Orcs with nothing but shorts on were throwing punches at each other. The action brought in a small crowd to watch. In At a first glance, it seemed nobody took much notice to them. They blended in perfectly.

Vaelori whispered to Mordenaku and Sorel, "Follow my lead." She placed the black band of cloth back onto her eyes and tied a rope around Sorel's neck. They began to walk through the camp. "Where are you taking us?" Sorel whispered to her.

"Somewhere for you to cause trouble."

"Vaelori, we aren't here to be the center of attention yet. We need to figure out what we're up against."

"Which is why I am trying to find a holding pen for you. Talk to the other drakes and see if they will assist us when we begin."

Sorel nodded.

"You! Stop!" Called an approaching fel orc. They stopped regretfully and turned to the Dragonmaw orc. "State your business here, elf." His sharp and aggressive articulations in his speech caused him to spit onto Vaelori. Vaelori slowly wiped the spit off her face and flicked her wrist clean. She tried to create a cynical tone in her reply, "Your lousy buffoons let some of the captured drakes to escape." She nudged Sorel's reins. "This one was found on our training grounds. Make sure it doesn't happen again. Ever."

"Who's the bastard that sent you here?"

Vaelori thought for a moment. "What's it to you? Look hun', we both want what is best for the master. Don't let the drakes escape and you won't have to see me again."

"Get done with your damn business and get the hell out of here."

Vaelori walked Mordenai and Sorel across the island, passing by hundreds of mining orcs hammering away at all of the crystals. There were massive drakonids patrolling the area. Each of which held a powerful mace over their broad shoulders. They were truly an intimidating sight to bear witness to.

Vaelori began to exchange the harness on Sorel and strapped it onto Mordenaku. There were multiple enormous floating boulders hovering above them. Sorel could see Dragonmaw flying to and from their location to the fortress just across these floating rocks. With a firm kick to the side, Mordenai began to fly higher with Vaelori on his back. Sorel followed. They began to fly towards the fortress, passing by the other enslaved netherdrakes along the way.

Another elf set foot on the base camp of the Dragonmaw. "Who..." One of the two fel orc guards asked her, "Who is you? What you want?" She flicked the hair away from her eyes, "Step aside lest I add you as another adornment to my armor. Your leader and I have matters to attend." The orcs stuttered in fear, "Yes... Yes we move now... Please no hurt us." She flicked the hair out of her face with her hand and smiled, "I thought you would see it my way." The elf intimidated two of the guards as she walked right past them. Perhaps it was her shoulder guards resembled the eyes of the gronn... and moved like them too. The only other possible thing it could have been was the glare of her eyes. The yellow glow of her eyes sent a chill down everyone's spine. There could only one name that befits someone such as her. Sinestra.

Sinestra advanced forth. Many of the scattering workers instantly got out of her way as she entered a building where the overlord of Netherwing Ledge had been in. Overlord Mor'ghor stood where he was, scolding Sinestra as she walked up to him and bowed with a false grace. "Overlord Mor'ghor, I presume... A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am Lady Sinestra." "Hmph," Mor'ghor spat at her foot, "I will not drag this out any further than it needs, Lady Sinestra. You have bent my ear, now tell me what it is that you want from the Dragonmaw."

Sinestra stepped on Mor'ghor's spit and began to grind it into the floor, "You have no doubt heard about Nefarian's failures on Azeroth. While he has fallen, the experiment continues. My master... He continues the work that his progeny began."

Mor'ghor's eyes widened as his jaw dropped. "The..." He stammered, "The master lives?"

"You were once a chief lieutenant, Mor'ghor. Your work in Grim Batol is not easily forgotten. Now..." Her eyes narrowed, "We need the eggs that you recovered. The Netherwing eggs. They are, after all, a product of the master. We will pay whatever price that you ask."

"Ye... Yes, yes... Of course. We need only the crystals and ore from this place. There is... We will need mounts."

"The master will be most pleased with this news. The Black Dragonflight will provide you all that you ask. You will be allowed to ride upon the backs of our drakes as needed. I thank you for your graciousness, Mor'ghor." She began to walk off, but paused at the entrance, "I must now take my leave."

Sinestra began to walk out of the camp. She ran her hand up one of the fel orc's shoulder. The innocent guard froze, stunned at her diabolical stare. His axe dropped from his hand, shield too. She continued to walk away. Just as she looked beyond into the Twisting Nether, something came to her into her senses. Something had yet to be accomplished. The sense would not leave Sinestra alone. She turned back and looked at the sky above. Something big was about to happen. Sinestra could feel the burning of her scars heat up to scalding temperatures. Her consort spoke into her head.

_Sinestra! There is one more task left for you to fulfill. Nefarian's hybrid is nearby. I feel his presence grow stronger by you. You would do me a great favor if you found him. He resembles one of us and calls himself Sorel. My plan will soon be set in motion. The tools are at my disposal. All I need now... is him. Do not fail where Nefarian has already, Sinestra. I will let you continue with the Twilight Dragonflight as planned afterwards._

Hearing Deathwing's voice once more sent her aquiver.

Sorel and Mordenaku flew over the Dragonmaw Fortress once more. Sorel gazed below and could see just how many netherdrakes had been in captivity. There were so many of them. All of which had been brutally beaten into obedience. Most of the fel orcs that were "training" them had whips that looked like a cat o' nine-tails. He could see the blood seeping out of their bruises and cuts on their backs and necks. Some were so badly beaten that they could hardly stand due to the immense pain that they suffered. At that point, Sorel saw only two fates that occurred next. Either they were taken back to their holding pens for their wounds to heal or their fates would end with a quick slit of the throat. The drakes that made it back to their pens hardly had it any easier. There were only a couple slabs of meat to eat off and far too many drakes to share. Most netherdrakes had to fight for their piece of food. Hardly any of the dragons there did not have scars or blood on them.

"My brothers!" Mordenaku cried, "My sisters! I cannot take this anymore, Sorel. They never deserved this!"

"Mordenai!" Sorel yelled at the infuriated nether dragon, "Don't do what you are planning on doing! Think of your mother and father! They have a plan to rescue every—"

"My... my mother! The Dragonmaw will pay for this!" Mordenaku grasped the relic tied to his neck. Vaelori tried to hold on tight to him now that his movements had become more violent.

"Don't do it, Mordenai!" She cried, trying to yell in Mordenaku's ear. "Think about what you're doing!"

"I have." He said. "And I know now what I must do."

Mordenaku squeezed tight onto the relic. The light of the relic shinned once again and bleed between his appendages. Then, the relic gave way in his clutch and shattered into pieces. Their illusions began to fade into the wind. Their true forms were revealed. "No!" Sorel roared in anger. Mordenai flew down and began to breathe fire onto the fortress walls. He traveled so fast, Vaelori had to let go of him. She was sent flying in the air and landed hard, rolling to a stop. Vaelori stumbled onto her feet and ran. She ran back to safety at the Sanctum of the Stars. She felt a strong feeling of regret upon deciding to abandon them. She turned back to see Sorel pursuing Mordenaku.

Sorel cried out to his enraged companion, "Mordenaku, stop this before it's too late!"

"Do you not see what they are doing Sorel? That is my family!"

Family.

Sorel's mind was haunted instantly by that word. "What if I was in his place?" He thought, "What if that was my family dying out here?" In his mind, even his old crew when he had been escaping the clutches of the naga he considered his family. Would all of them be worth saving as quickly as possible? Was Mordenaku actually doing the right thing? He wished they didn't have to bring Vaelori into this mess. This wasn't supposed to happen, not this way.

He flew at Mordenaku's side as he was banking around the fortress for another pass of destruction. Mordenaku looked intently at Sorel. Both saw the same feelings and emotions the other was going through. They could see the compassion, the dedication, and most importantly the love to their cherished ones. "Free your mother, Mordenai." Sorel told him, "I'll keep the others off your back."

"Thank you, Sorel. Perhaps we will meet again someday." He smiled at Sorel.

"Maybe. Hurry, Mordenai. Time is not on our side!" Sorel flapped his wings harder and began to accelerate downward.

"Farewell... Seeker."

Mordenaku's attention then turned to the top of the fortress where a portion of it was built on the side of one of the mountains. He could see a dragon very similar to himself, chained down near the ledge. "Mother!" Karynaku was lying down weakly. He had to do something.

Mordenaku flew with tremendous speed to reach her. Mordenaku slashed his way past several orcs that tried to defend their prisoner. Blood was shed across their chests. Mordenaku's claws were tainted in velvety red. He slammed his tail on any remainder orcs trying to stop him. Karynaku's head rose up and she gazed at her son. Her voice was hoarse but warmed Mordenaku's heart, "Oh Mordenaku... You... you came back for me. Help me undo these bonds." He looked at her hind legs. Metal chain clamps fastened her onto the floor. She couldn't break free in her condition. Mordenai grasped the chain with his claws and pulled. With every ounce of strength still left in him, he tugged hard to make the metal give way. The stone around the clamps began to crack in fissures. Perhaps the chains would not break, but the stone would. He continued to pull, seeing Sorel flying above with more than a dozen sky guards on his tail as he continued to wreak havoc to the area. Then, the chains rattled loudly as they were uprooted from the concrete. "Fly mother, fly! You're free! Fly!" Mordenaku assisted Karynaku and eventually they both soared off into the sky. Mordenai turned back to see Sorel one final time.

Sorel dashed through the blazing inferno of the fortress. Nearly every building had been covered in flame. The corpses of the Dragonmaw began to stockpile. Some of the netherdrakes began to rebel with Sorel and attack their masters. Fire and blood. That was all that remained of the Dragonmaw Fortress. Sorel had not accomplished victory yet, however. He looked behind him to see all of the mounted sky guards that had been rallied to fend him off.

With a quick turn, he dove right back at them and created a sea of fire within the air. The netherdrakes couldn't avoid it in time. They dove straight into Sorel's flames. Their skin was seared; some made it out easier than others did. The orcs, however, could not handle the fires. They were thrown from their mounts and all of them fell like stones, screaming at the top of their lungs in fear of death. Sorel could see them vanish as they fell. Then there befell a silence. He roared in triumph. Sorel never felt so invigorated before. He felt like this was the beginning of his new role within the world. It felt magnificent. But all good things must come to an end.

Sorel could not remember how it happened, but he was on solid ground again. His face was pressed into the earth. Actually, his whole body was. Sorel looked above to see a dark draconic shadow of Sinestra on top of him. "Who are you that dares call yourself to be of MY children!" She asked him. Sorel nudged his face to speak. "I... am Sorel..."

The dragon came close to his face, "..." She whispered into his ear. It wasn't her voice though... it was much deeper and darker. It sounded like the voice who had endured years of suffering and pain that planned on seeking out vengeance once and for all. "You... are mine now, Ssoorreell..."

Sorel could feel a bitter fire begin to consume his body from within. Sinestra's ember eyes glowed like the sun and glared down upon the helpless Sorel. Sorel churned in pain, writhing in agony. Never before had he felt as horrendous was right now. "What... is... happening... to me...!" Sorel bellowed. His roar began to change as well, sounding much more devastating and frightening. The alien voice coming from Sinestra began to dwell within Sorel's. The land began to shake and dust began to be forced in front of the sound wave that boomed from Sorel. The world began to close in on him with only a sinister laughter resonating in his head...

Neltharaku heard the suffering cry of Sorel as Mordenaku and Karynaku returned to their shelter. He was stricken with fear when it registered in his mind what it sounded like. "No, it can't be!" He could remember the very same cry coming from another powerful dragon he had met before only years ago. "What was that, father?" Mordenaku questioned.

"I..." He stammered even at the thought of it, "I think that was... the sound of death himself..."

"No!" Mordenai cried, "You don't mean—"

"I do, son. Deathwing... he is here..."

"What about Sorel? We need to save him!"

"It's too late, son. He is gone."

Part II

The Flames of Destiny

Chapter XIII

The bells of Stormwind's Cathedral rang into song. The wind breezed through the trees of the cemetery and park. People began to open the doors of their homes and they walked through the city's streets. Crowds began to form, stores were abandoned, and banks had been locked down, business made a complete stop. Everyone gathered in the Valley of Heroes at the entrance of Stormwind City. Nearly all of the districts had been abandoned with the exception of the guards keeping watch.

The trade district became flooded with people scurrying to get in the Valley of Heroes. The crowds of people chattered with each other. There were trumpets being played, banners of the Alliance being placed all around the walls and nearly in any other place.

"Clear the way!" Guards hollered, "Make room for Bolvar Fordragon!" The trumpets blared out the call of the Alliance. The crowd cheered. There was one person that kept continuing to be pushed and shoved out of the way. Her radiant rose colored robe gave her trouble trying to maintain balance. She held her hood down shyly as people yelled at her trying to squeeze through people. They tell her, "Hey!" "Watch it!" "Excuse you!" She tried not to be bothered by it.

The clouds cleared up and saturated the town. The red robbed woman covered her face with her hood as the sun danced off her dress. The red and gold glowed bright with green emerald accents. It was a finely woven dress of Blood Elven heritage. Her golden shoulderpads glistened just like her elven ears. She looked up at the sky with the sun hitting her face.

It was Setrastrasza.

Setrastrasza looked at the gates as she heard the whines of horses. They galloped past the several statues of memorable Alliance heroes. She could see that Bolvar Fordragon was on horseback, along with Jaina Proudmoore, Prince Anduin Wrynn, and General Marcus Jonathan. The crowds began to throw confetti in the air, along with hats, empty beer mugs, and other miscellaneous objects at their disposal. Setrastrasza tried to avoid the falling objects, running into more people and falling to the ground.

She never told anyone, but she had a fear similar to claustrophobia. However, the main difference was being stuck in large crowds of unknown people of another race. And here she was... alone in a crowd of strangers. She didn't take their gossip well, hearing people mumble about her. Setrastrasza could hear them debate on whether she was a high elf or blood elf or how rude she was running into so many people. But what fueled her persistence was her mission. She tried to get a hold of herself, focusing on what needed to be done.

Setrastrasza could hear Bolvar Fordragon raise his hand. The crowd silenced after a few seconds. Only the wind running through the trees could be heard. Setrastrasza managed to stand back up again and look at what Bolvar was about to say.

"People of the Alliance," Bolvar hollered, "humans of Stormwind, men and women of war, children of innocence! I welcome you all to this wondrous ceremony. For those of you that have recently journeyed to our home, we are glad that you have managed to travel hear in good health." Bolvar gripped the reins of his steed and his horse moved forward slowly. He continued, "All things considered, you have my sincere apologies for such a late notice for this event. I have heard many rumors spread about as to what this pertains to. Please allow me to clarify this situation. As you all know, Stormwind has been struggling to continue daily life without a king. With the new heir still too young to begin to take the throne, I have been charged with the title of Commander of the Stormwind Army... a temporary ruler. However, today heralds a new age for Stormwind and the Alliance. Sound the trumpets for the return of our king, Varian Wrynn!"

The crowd instantly shot up in cheering wildly. The trumpets sounded. At the gates of Stormwind's entrance, a single horseman trotted the Valley of Heroes. The man's armor resembled a metallic falcon on one shoulder and a lion on the other. His face revealed many scars, but notably one going across his entire face just under his eyes and another across his left eye. His hair was a darkened brown, almost mistakably black, with his long hair tied in back. Floods of people began to follow Varian. The guards tried to hold them back, but there were too many people and not enough guards.

For Setrastrasza, on the other hand, she held onto the base of the nearest statue to avoid being dragged along with all of the people. She could see Bolvar and Jaina continue to stand still as General Marcus Jonathan left to assist the situation.

Her eyes narrowed, becoming more draconic. They turned from emerald to ruby. Setrastrasza couldn't lose sight of Bolvar. She saw people flooding the gates to reenter the city, but she continued to hold on tight. She noticed her nails began to elongate and puncture the stone statue's base. Setrastrasza couldn't stop herself from feeling endangered. She closed her eyes in hope of her fears fading. The noise of the flocks of people began to diminish into the distance. Setrastrasza's body was shaking, trying to retain the dragon inside.

"Are you alright there, Madame?" A man asked her. Setrastrasza opened her eyes and looked around. The crowd was gone. The only person left was Bolvar Fordragon standing in front of her, offering his hand of aid. Her nails and eyes began to revert back to normal.

"Y-yes. Fine, thank you." She tried to act natural, which wasn't working. Setrastrasza could see the doubt in his eyes. Bolvar pulled back his hand slightly, "Not a problem, but let me help you at least return back into the city. You seem a little shaken up."

"Oh, just um... a little..." Setrastrasza paused. "I'm not very comfortable in crowds."

"I understand."

She gathered herself together, "There was something that I did want to tell you, though."

"Oh? What about?"

"Well, Bolvar, I am Setrastrasza of the Red Dragonflight. I am here on their behalf to warn you of a building threat from the North."

"We've braved the horrors of the Scourge, the depths of Ahn'Qiraj, the demons of Outland, and now the absence of our king. What is there that the Alliance can't triumph over?"

Setrastrasza didn't know how else to deliver the answer. She know what his reaction would be. "Malygos, the Spell-Weaver."

She could see Bolvar's face transition into astonishment. His eyes widened and his hand wiped off a drop of sweat from his forehead. Setrastrasza remained speechless as he continued to grasp the news.

"Why him?" Bolvar rhetorically asked.

Setrastrasza answered anyway, "Malygos has been driven insane. He wants the mortal races punished for their abuse with `his' power. Now, he's willing to take the fight to a whole new level."

"A dragon aspect..." He muttered to himself. Bolvar thought for a brief moment and then looked back at Setrastrasza. "I need some time to think."

"I'll notify the magi. Perhaps we can fight magic with magic."

"Stay as long as you want, Setrastrasza. I'll be sure to notify the city guards of your presence. You do look very similar to a blood elf."

Setrastrasza took off the hood off her head, revealing her scarlet red hair and her emerald eyes. "Even if they do believe such, I can take care of myself just fine."

They both parted their ways. The guised dragon strolled down the Trade District, passing by many people running between the auction house and the bank with occasional stops to the mailbox. Setrastrasza continued to walk onwards. She walked over the bridges of the canals, seeing fishers and citizens on multiple small boats that follow the controlled currents that tour around the heart of the city.

Atop the bridge, she caught a lush breeze of air. The sun was high; the sky was full of white clouds with a magnificent blue sky. Then, the life of the scenery was sucked away. Setrastrasza collapsed to the ground. She could feel a darkness begin to envelope her heart. She grasped the stone rail of the bridge and managed to pull herself to her feet. Setrastrasza held onto the stone, trying to catch her breath and stability. Something evil was beginning to unfold.

As Setrastrasza looked around, an eerie feeling took hold of her. The strange sense of a lively city with a dark and sinister future sent a cold chill down her spine. She hoped everyone would be prepared for what was to come; expected or unexpected. However, a great sense of doubt rushed into her head.

She couldn't let her dragonflight down. There was a lot of hope and expectation placed on her shoulders. Setrastrasza had to do all that she could to make sure the world would be prepared for the war against Malygos. But with this new and unknown threat looming ahead, she hoped she could withstand the challenge.

Azeroth's fate rested in her hands.

Chapter XIV

Dragons circled around the spire of Blackrock Mountain. At a distance, it almost seemed like a swarm of locusts. The burning hot sun glared onto the the northwest side. The shadow of the mountain loomed over the surrounding pools of lava. But it was what lured blow those lava pools that things began to come into perspective. Below were cavernous tunnels that were all connected to the depths of the Molten Core. They were all filled with dragonkin, drakonids, drakes, and full-fledged dragons. There were floors filled with countless armies, all armed and ready to kill. If there was one thing they all had in common, it was their color. _Black._

At the lower levels where the magma began to spew out of underground geysers, forges were placed next by the molten rock. Some of the drakonids hammered down red hot steel. They shaped the metal into armor and swords, along with plating that can be attached to dragons. The ringing of clashing metal, the hissing noise of water evaporating with the contact of magma, and the distant roars of dragons.

A voice began to increase in volume the higher one ascended in Blackrock Mountain. It was the voice of Nefarius atop his throne. "... and the retrieval of our missing subject proved to be a success. With the help of Sinestra in Shadowmoon Valley, we apprehended him and returned him into the prison cells in the lower portion of Hordemar City. From what I have gathered, everything should return back to our original schedule. Our master is overseeing him currently."

Nefarius began to look outside. He could see several fleets of dragons circling around the mountain. He continued, "And now, with everything returning back to normal, we can focus on crippling one of our most infamous adversaries. Afterwards, we can finally push forward and finish this rivalry with the Blue Dragonflight. With Malygos preparing for our assault, we have been forced to hold up our end as well. But unbeknownst to them, we have our secret weapon. Although Sinestra has been working on finalizing her own experiments called the Twilight Dragonflight, I have been working on a successor to my last failed dragonflight: the Chromatic Dragonflight. Even though I learned much from the Chromatic Dragonflight, they were still ordinary and simple dragons. With my newest experiment, I wanted to create the ultimate fighting machine. A dragon of great power that no other dragon could stand up against. And now I have finally perfected it. What puzzles me though is that the serum only worked on one person. The others did not survive the transformation. Unfortunately, we do not have any more to produce more. So I thought to myself, 'why not bring the lab... to the experiments?' That is what I am hoping for with our upcoming advance on our adversaries. I won't speak of anything else. Once all preparations have been made, we will begin our assault."

In front of Nefarius, lines of his draconic army began to form and made a pathway heading to the lower portions of his lair. The King of Blackrock stepped forward and walked. Each and every dragonkin and drakonid stood at a formal attention stance in the presence of their commander. Nefarius could see each and every look in their eyes. It was the look of a hardened and battle-ready soldier who was ready to kill and slaughter for what they stood for.

As he walked into the lower tiers, he could continue to see who diligently the black dragons had been working. Thousands of vials of his serum experiment were ready to be taken into battle. The glowing black liquid inside made Nefarius smirk wildly. When he continued to walk to the molten span, he could see dozens of orcs. All of them were on the back of a mighty black dragon. They each carried the torn and bloody banner of the Blackrock Orcs. They refused to carry a new one since it would dishonor of what their previous battles stood for. Blood described these orcs unlike any other kind. Blood and battle.

Now... there was one last thing to check up on: the recovered experiment. Nefarius walked down the mighty steel chains that suspended that enormous boulder in the air. Nefarius walked through the underground mines to what was known as the Ring of Law within the caverns of Blackrock. He couldn't recall what he looked like. All he remembered was that this man was the only one who survived the transformation. Nefarius didn't need to know anything else about him. He didn't care to remember his name of Sorel. Sorel. What a stupidly chosen name.

When Nefarian returned to Blackrock after his defeat with the heroes of the Horde and Alliance, the Molten Core and Blackrock Caverns had become a ghost town. Spiders and rats began to overtake them. Over the years, with Nefarian back within his lair, the Black Dragonflight began to establish themselves discretely in those abandoned dungeons. What Nefarian had noticed with the Horde and Alliance was that they always seemed to press forward; never looking back. Perhaps this would prove to be to his advantage. Nefarian did have much to lose, but he was one to gamble. This was his wildcard, but he knew how to play it.

As he approached the Ring of Law, two dragonkin mages guarded the sealed entrance. With one glance at Nefarius and his lava-forged armor, the two dragonkin rushed to concealed iron chains and began to pull with all of their strength. As the metal corridor creaked open slowly, a dusty fog began to cover the floor. It was hardly noticeable since the entire area was basically surrounded by a faint light source. With dragons, though, sight was not limited like it would be with humans. Nefarius could see just fine. Perfectly, in fact.

The ancient metal door screeched to a halt. A single exhale was all that could be heard. It was followed by a low and weak growl. "You..." Nefarius heard within the pitch black Ring of Law. The voice resembled more like his father's, but he could hear that foreign voice belonging to Sorel. It was only a matter of time. He could hear chains begin to rattle and grunts. Sorel was trying to stand up. "Don't bother." Nefarius told him.

Sorel continued, struggling with every passing moment.

The next moment, the chains rattled violently. The color of fire began to outline the scales of the imprisoned dragon and continued to glow brighter and brighter. Sorel roared in pain, "YOU... ARE NOT... GOING... ANYWHERE!" Nefarius could hear and feel the mighty dragon collapse to the ground. The glowing outline of Sorel's scales faded away. Sorel began to pant hard. Darkness shrouded the Ring of Law once more.

"What... what the hell... have you done to me...?"

"It's not over yet." Nefarius spat to the ground, "Just sit tight and let the magic happen. The more you fight it the more of hell you'll experience."

"They... they told me you were the one... who did this to me. You took my life away, you son of a bitch."

"I didn't take your life away, fool. I gave you power; a power that could only be achieved by the most superior of dragonflights. With the power I have bestowed onto you, you can take back what you may have lost."

"I never wanted this! Not only did you change me into a reptile, you mercilessly killed all of my friends and comrades that I cared about. That is something you can NEVER replace. I will have my revenge, you monstrous bastard. When I am out of this, I will find you. I will watch you suffer and writhe in pain..." Nefarius knew what was about to happen. His father's presence entered the shadows. Sorel continued to rant, "... until you beg for your life to end. I refuse to be one of your lab rats! I NEVER... WANTED THIS... AT—!"

The chains began to ring in violent thrashing. The ground began to shake with Sorel slamming onto the ground and sides of the arena. Nefarius could hear the broken rock fall onto the metal slabs that were placed around the arena. Nefarius could see through the dust of rock. He could see the glow of his father eyes within Sorel's. The glow of fire outlined his scales again, brighter than ever. The chains snapped off. A powerful exhale from the menacing dragon hidden within the darkness. Nefarian kneeled down before him.

"_It is done, my son. His mind may be mortal, but his body is of my own burning blood. The time to strike is now, Nefarian. Ready the others. We attack at dawn."_

"Very well." Nefarius said. "Welcome back, father."

The pitch black dragon glanced back at Nefarian, "Your experiment best not fail this time, son. There is far too much on the line to have mistakes."

"It won't. This has been one of my most tedious projects of my life. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't believe that it was ready."

"You best hope so."

"I know so."

Both of them grinned at each other.

A'dal's song ran through Khadgar's head for the hundredth, thousandth time. Although the song was redundant, it gave him a sense of sanctity. That was something Khadgar did not want to lose hold of. Sanctity in Outland was so rare to find. After being here for all these long lost years, he enjoyed the feeling he had in Shattrath. It stood for a light of hope.

As he turned to face A'dal, the song stopped. Khadgar began to feel the silence creep up on him. He was beginning to feel less protected. "What has happened, A'dal?" He asked. A'dal hovered in the air, looking to where the sun had set. There was a long pause before A'dal finally decided to answer. Khadgar had to ask him a second time.

"It's begun. The darkness comes. Not here. Azeroth. A horrible event is about to take fold, Khadgar. Many will lose their lives. It will be one of his most difficult challenges. Not even I can tell what the outcome will be. The Light hasn't lied to me before, Khadgar. The Seeker will fulfill his destiny. Just like anything else, though, it is only a matter of time."

"What frightens me though is what time might reveal."

"If it is time, it will be time. It is not yet that time, Khadgar. It will be some day, but not any time soon. But for the Seeker, we're going to have to do like anyone else would have to do."

"What would that be?"

"To have patience. All we can do now is wait. The Light will push the Seeker to his limit perhaps. Only he will know if he's ready for it."

Chapter XV

Back in Stormwind, Setrastrasza managed to reach contact with the wizards and magi of the Alliance. She told them about the rising threat with Malygos, the Spell-Weaver. Setrastrasza was even taught new spells thanks to them as well. The magi were astounded with her ability to control and possess magic for being a red dragon. The magic ranged from simple things such as levitating objects to powerful and dangerous spells created for the use of battle.

Setrastrasza could feel that same magic within her. It was quick, ready, and in the palms of her hands. She did carry around a rather large spellbook, though. Even a dragon's ability to learn requires constant memorization. She also obtained several small relics of arcane power that she adorned on herself. Most of them were jewelry such as bracelets, rings, and necklaces that were enchanted and infused with powerful magic.

She definitely liked it here. This was the first time she fully pursued her interest in magic. Setrastrasza could really see a use for such power. She would have to try out these new spells if she had the chance.

Perhaps that chance was here.

Setrastrasza began to hear wings flapping along with other faint noises. She pardoned herself from the Mage Tower and hurried to a nearby window. She looked beyond the keep of Stormwind to see... _"Oh no."_ she thought,_ "not here. Not now!"_ It was a swarm of dragons headed straight for Stormwind. The sirens began to wail. "A siege!" Setrastrasza cried out, "Dragons flying in from the East!"

The citizens of Stormwind scurried into their homes and buildings. Women and children could be heard screaming. Archers rushed onto the city's walls and formed ranks, aiming carefully at the oncoming attackers. "Lock the gates! Hold position! Do not give them an inch of ground!" The archers stretched out their bows and awaited the call to fire. Doors could be heard slamming shut, gates being grinded closed, and portcullises sliding into their locked position.

"_Fire!"_

Arrows began to be flung into the air. It looked almost like a shower of them. It was astounding to so many of them pierce the skin of the attacking dragons. Something was wrong. They just kept on flying. Did the arrows even phase them? Varian Wrynn bolted out of the keep. "The Black Dragonflight? In my city! They shall pay in blood!" He sheathed out his twin sabers and charged onwards. He was followed by a dozen guards as well. Varian raced through the canals, watching hundreds of dragons flying overhead. Some of them began to bathe buildings with their fire. Explosions could be seen, felt, and heard. Varian pressed on. He managed to grab hold of the neck of an oncoming dragon. The dragon flew above the cityscape and flailed around to get him off. Varian sank his blades into the beast's side, splattering blood on his polished armor.

Setrastrasza bolted out of the Mage Tower, seeing the many dragons beginning to wreak havoc on the city. Smoke began to infest the sky. Setrastrasza shifted quickly into her dragon self and took flight. She began to pounce on many of the black drakes one by one, sinking her claws into their backs. They began to fall. Setrastrasza knew they would be dead before they even hit the ground. She landed in the Valley of Heroes, looking beyond the city's closed gates. Her eyes glowed blue and a halo of arcane energy wrapped around her front paws.

_Bam!_

They were there, too. Setrastrasza readied for what was about to come through. The walls began to toss out splinters of the gate's wood. She swallowed hard and began to dash forward. The large wooden door was about to give way. She readied her flame and began to chant a spell.

The door peeped open just enough for Setrastrasza to squeeze through. She drenched all of the incoming dragonkin with liquid flame onto their faces and chests. She then lashed her tail from behind and knocked them back several yards, falling onto more waves of hostiles. Setrastrasza jumped into the air and flung a ball of light into the heart of the draconic army. A giant explosion of blue and purple colors pierced through the think treeline of Elwynn Forest. She gasped and took a breath of air.

Before she knew it, she had a tail slam onto the side of her maw and sent her falling into the large pond under the Valley of Heroes. She shook herself together and swam to the ground. Setrastrasza gazed above to see a dark and powerful dragon staring her down. The dragon's flesh was completely exposed to the muscle and bones. The rib cage was cracked open to reveal all of the decomposed organs. His wings were horrifically torn numerous times. She wondered how he could even fly. His was stained in dry blood with scars and slash marks covering most of his sides.

"What is a red dragon doing here? Pft, no matter. I'll dispose of you myself!" He cried out, beginning to dive towards Setrastrasza. She flapped her wings and soared away from the undead dragon. His voice was familiar. Maybe she knew him. It can wait, living was more important. Setrastrasza flew across the dragon-infested Stormwind city, seeing multiple fires all around and one pissed off dragon chasing her.

Varian Wrynn eventually caught up with Bolvar Fordragon and Jaina Proudmoore just outside the cathedral. "Where is my son?" Varian demanded. "I teleported him to Ironforge. Magni will keep him in good hands." "Alright. I will help assist the harbor. Bolvar, help secure Old Town and the dwarven district. Jaina, you help out with the mage quarter and park." The nodded to each other and split off. Varian, now acting more like Lo'gosh, sprinted to the harbor's entrance. Lo'gosh looked at the ground to see a large shadow consume his and everything else. He looked up and his jaw began to drop.

Jaina hurried towards the mage quarter, avoiding all of the falling dragons that were crashing into the canals. "Jaina!" She looked back to see Setrastrasza closing in on her side. "Hop on, there isn't much time!" Jaina grabbed a hold of Setrastrasza's neck and sat on her back. "So there was a red dragon here!" Jaina exclaimed.

"Yes, but we can talk about that later. We have bigger problems!" Setrastrasza gestured behind her.

Jaina could see the undead behemoth chasing both of them. He was beginning to shoot fireballs at them now. "Is that... Nefarian?"

"If it is, you should probably do something before we're both dead."

Jaina began to thrash her hands around and mutter in a language that barely made sense to Setrastrasza. A spear of fire and ice formed above her hand and Jaina thrusted it at Nefarian. The undead dragon dashed out of the way of the incoming missile. The magical spear of frostfire struck at his hind leg. Nefarian backed away from them and dove back towards the burning city. Jaina thought it looked far too similar to Stratholme. She didn't like that thought at all.

"Who are you?" Jaina asked.

"I am Setrastrasza. I was here to warn your people of a war against Malygos, but it seems the blacks wanted some action as well."

Jaina nodded, "We need to help out the mage quarter and the park. You take the park and I'll get the mage quarter."

Setrastrasza nodded to her. Jaina began to evaporate in a flash of light and must have teleported to the other magi. Setrastrasza flew towards the park. Slashing her way through a cloud of dragons and drakes. Their blood began to spill to the ground like rain. The canals water began to darken with a light tint of red. She fell to the ground, landing on a couple black drakes. The number of attackers slowly began to fall. Stormwind, although beaten and battered, wasn't out just yet. The moral of the guards began to brighten.

A powerful, ear-blistering roar filled the city. Setrastrasza, Jaina, Bolvar, and Varian all looked into the sky. The remaining dragons that still swept through the sky began to pour down a black liquid into each of the districts. The liquid crept through the damaged buildings where screams of fright began to be mixed with roars of pain.

The boards and stone began to be ripped out of the inn. The arms of the helpless flailed out, desperately trying to grab hold of anything. Then it began to happen. The bones began to stretch, muscles bulged out, fingernails changed into claws, scales began to replace skin, and blood began to drip everywhere. Wet scarlet wings shot out of the ceiling. They began to flap ferociously and a malformed black dragon arose from the inn.

The dragon's proportions were off with the limbs and facial structure. Some of the forelimbs were minute compared to the other bulky and obscenely muscular ones. The tail was stiff and covered in overgrown scales that arced outwards to act like spikes. The left side of the face overtook the right with more definition. The maw was oversized with a massive overbite.

Other twisted dragons began to soar from the building with only one thing that each of them had. There was that same black liquid dripping of their bodies. "Success!" Nefarian roared from the air, "The serum is working better than I had hoped."

Varian yelled in anger, "NO! I will not have my people turned into those monsters!"

"_Monsters..."_

Varian turned around to see a draconic behemoth hovering above the harbor, glaring dead-on at him.

"_It is not I who is the 'monster', Wrynn. It is you. You and your Allaince have been like a needle in my back for decades."_

Varian could see his large, yellow, bloodshot eyes, staring him down like death itself. Wrynn gripped hold of his swords and took a step back.

"_The hour of the Black Dragonflight is upon you. Make peace with your end, fool."_

Varian regretfully retreated back. He couldn't do this alone. Not this time.

Setrastrasza could see the black behemoth tower over the cathedral. He seemed so familiar, though._ "Sorel!"_ Her mind began to race around in circles faster than the Mirage Raceway rocket cars. She could sense it was him. It had to be him. His eyes were like fire along with what seeped out between his scales. His wings and scales resembled the color of ash. But one question kept coming into her head: "What happened to you, Sorel?"

Sorel lied there in utter darkness. Tears began to drip down his black and scaly cheek. He was badly wounded. Several areas around his joints were bruised so badly that some of his scales began to fall off. His own blood was wiped across his face, sides, and wings. One of the horns on his head was sliced off, along with the blood beginning to delta off as it continued to travel down his neck. The only thing that his mind could think about was his failure.

Beside him was the corrupted aspect Deathwing standing beside him in his human form, showing Sorel images of his destructive path throughout Stormwind. Sorel looked to see a dark and twisted version of him towering on top of buildings and crushing the people of his beloved city. Sorel continued to cry. He couldn't stop Deathwing. He had complete control over him. How could a mere human stand along against a dragon aspect?

Sorel attempted to stand up. It was near impossible to fight the pain. "Persistent, aren't you?" Deathwing asked him. Sorel spoke not a word and continued to pull himself up. "I know what you're thinking. You really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" Silence. Sorel fell back onto the ground, but valiantly continued to try and get to his feet. Deathwing didn't bother with him. He continued, "I have unimaginable power at my disposal, human. If you thought you could have escaped my grasp..." Deathwing gestured to himself, "... you were wrong. I have heard the name of 'Seeker' being one of your titles. Tell me, what were you seeking all this time?" No response. Deathwing simply chuckled, "Perhaps you'd be more willing to cooperate if I gave you a choice. Either you talk, or you can sit there and watch as I turn everyone you know and love into hybrid dragons to serve at my command." Deathwing grappled onto Sorel's horns and stared him down. "Make. Your. Choice."

Sorel stared into Deathwing's eyes. All he could see was a burning hell of torment, hatred, and power. "I was trying to find my destiny." Deathwing laughed, "Destiny, hah! I gave you a destiny to clench hold of, to embrace, to dwell in. But you went and decided to see what all else is out there for you. It amazes me that here you are, a strong and destined mortal who was given the opportunity to become a legend and you toss it aside to go scavenge. And scavenge for what? You mortals haven't the faintest idea of the obvious choice to make. It angers me to see such power wasted on the likes of you. A mortal of such great potential only to descend into sea of failure. That's why I am here. This is what you could have had, mortal: power. Power unlike anything this world has ever seen before. How does it feel to not only have your life thrown away, but to pass down at a second chance for greatness?"

Sorel didn't respond.

"Fine, it's your choice." Deathwing walked away, leaving Sorel to fall once again on his knees.

Chapter XVI

Regardless of how the battle was looking, the numbers of the Black Dragonflight were decreasing at a much faster rate than the Alliance. Arrows of flame fell through the sky like a meteor shower, but on a more or less apocalyptic setting. The two clock towers in the canals were greatly damaged. Much of the stone around the city had been scorched from all of the flames. There were many fires, but most appeared to be very well contained since all of the buildings consisted of more stone than anything else. Most of what did catch on fire was the roofs, trees, and wooden signs. Stormwind was built exactly for this reason, to prevent fire from ravaging the city. It was a lesson they had learned too well from when the orcs in the first war decimated the city.

Varian could see some of the townsfolk douse the flames with water from the canals and some of the freshwater that was at their disposal. He could also see more and more mutated dragons beginning to climb out from each of the districts. Lo'gosh's anger began to consume him. He had to do something. Now. When he caught up with Bolvar, the two began to climb up the stairs leading to the gryphon master. They took two of the aerial beasts and took to the sky.

"I have to see Sorel, Jaina." Setrastrasza told her, "There might still be something left to save." "Sorel? The Seeker? He is here?" Jaina pondered.

Setrastrasza pointed to the dark dragon who had climbed the top of the cathedral.

"You're kidding me! Look at him, Setrastrasza. Look at his eyes. All I see is darkness."

"Would you say the same about Arthas?"

Jaina Proudmoore remembered the noble Prince Arthas of Lordaeron. She also remembered his descent into madness from the purging of Stratholme, to taking the cursed blade of Frostmourne, and all the way to taking his seat on the Frozen Throne as the Lich King. She still believed he could be saved.

"Just be careful, Setrastrasza. It'll take a lot of willpower to get through to him."

Setrastrasza nodded and took off.

Sorel could see her coming at his direction. Inside his head, Sorel could see her through Deathwing's images. _"Setrastrasza..."_ he thought. He began to stand up once more with a fire beginning to burn within his heart.

"Sorel!" The red dragon cried out. The enormous dragon shifted its head to her. Setrastrasza saw his maw open wide and beginning to glow. She dashed to the side to avoid the sea of liquid fire that was now pouring out of his mouth. She hovered above him and yelled, "Sorel, it's me! Setrastrasza! Don't you remember?" _"He's not in. Perhaps you should check back after I've had my fun with him."_ Sorel's wings unfolded out and he began to move toward her.

Setrastrasza dove under him to avoid the charge. Sorel managed to thrust his hind legs into her back. The pain began to rush into her spine. Setrastrasza fought it off long enough to turn back around and combine one of her fireballs with her arcane magic to multiply it into a hundred fireballs. The vast majority of them hit all across Sorel's body. Sorel roared out in anger, sounding far too similar to the roar of the black dragon aspect.

"I know you're in there, Sorel," Setrastrasza roared back, "and I will save you!"

Sorel could see Deathwing standing there in front of one of his magical images. He couldn't hear Sorel finally managed to slowly creep up from behind. With a swift strike, Sorel swiped at him. The attack never hit him. Deathwing vanished almost instantly. Sorel quickly looked around him and braced himself.

"So be it, mortal."

A mighty ball of light rushed at Sorel from his left side. Sorel spat his own fireball at it. When the two collided, the explosion knocked Sorel back several yards. It became completely silent. Sorel continued to look around. Darkness began to creep up on him slowly. He looked to his left and right. Nothing. Sorel twirled around and created a circle of fire that illuminated the area. He saw Deathwing lunge at him from his side with his claws fully extended out and maw open.

Sorel turned to him quickly and jumped into the air. He could see Deathwing barely miss his tail and began to turn around. Sorel sank his teeth into his lower back. Deathwing's momentum caused Sorel's teeth to painfully slide down his tail, leaving a horrid two meter wound that cut through his armor plating like butter. Sorel licked the blood from his mouth. Although disgusting to the taste, it satisfied him. Deathwing analyzed his wound. "Not bad, Sorel. If I hadn't gone through years of pain and torment, that might actually have hurt. But now, it get's personal."

Varian Wrynn and Bolvar Fordragon began to toss spears at the dragons deploying the strange liquid. Their aim was for the eyes more or less, but any part of the head or neck would do. Nefarian began to loom above them. "Bolvar, watch out!" Nefarian lashed his tail at them. Bolvar and Varian split around his massive tail and began to ascend near his neck. "Ah, it is you two that I have to thank for ruining my plans with the chromatic dragonflight. It was a pleasure seeing all of my creations destroyed one by one." Nefarian said, "Here, I even brought you a gift for your sincerity!" He slashed at them with his claws. Bolvar and Varian tried to dodge the oncoming attack, but their gryphons coulnd't react in time.

Nefarian's claws knocked the gryphons from under them. Bolvar and Varian desperately tried to grab hold of Nefarian in some manner. Varian managed to catch himself on a forelimb whereas Bolvar clenched onto the upper part of his tail. Varian dug his swords into Nefarian's exposed muscles and eroding flesh. The smell was horrid, even for a decomposing body of a dead dragon.

As they both climbed up to his back, Nefarian flailed around trying to shack them off. When all else failed, he slammed his body up against tall structures of Stormwind to crush them.

Setrastrasza collapsed onto the ground. She moaned in pain as she rolled to her side. She was breathing hard, occasionally coughing out the dust of rock that had filled her lungs. She looked up at Sorel, who stood at her side and towered over her.

Sorel lowered his head to hers, _"Pah, you are weak. You may have a lot of tricks up your sleeve, but deep down, you are nothing."_ Sorel did managed to have his own fair share of cuts and wounds, but amazingly they didn't seem to faze him. _"Any last words, whelp?"_

Setrastrasza looked at him. Was Sorel really lost? Her hope was dwindling fast. "I don't care who you are who claims to be Sorel. He knows how much I hate to let someone down. Ever since we parted ways I always felt like I failed him. But now, I call to him. Please, Sorel. I know I have failed you, but don't fail me as well."

Sorel's ears rang with every last word Setrastrasza said. "NO!" He roared in fury, "I... WILL NOT... FAIL YOU, ...SETRASTRASZA! THERE IS... STILL... HOPE!" His voice sounded much like what Setrastrasza remembered.

"Fight him, Sorel! You can take control! Tell the world who you are!"

Within his mind, Sorel could hear her voice echo around as he and Deathwing slashed at each other. "You want to know who I am, Deathwing?" Sorel began to swing faster and harder with each forelimb and several balls of fire into Deathwing's face. "My name is Sorel. I may be a black dragon, but I'll never be one of your damn pawns! Get out of my body you son of a bitch, and never come back here again! So long as the Seeker lives!"

Sorel's heart burned with an undying fire. That fire coursed through his veins and guided each and every one of his blows. Deathwing struggled to keep his guard up. He couldn't continue to withstand such powerful blows. Sorel suddenly whipped his tail from behind to uppercut Deathwing's jaw. The metallic armor that gave him that distinguishing look on his jaw pulled outward and began to dislodge his lower jaw from the rest of his mouth. Before Deathwing could react, Sorel came crashing down on his face with one swipe to his right eye.

There was one thing that caught Sorel's attention when fighting Deathwing. And it wasn't the fact that he never yelled in pain throughout his fight, but he noticed the color of his blood. His blood glowed like magma, hot like magma, too. Sorel, if anything, knew he'd have a scar on that eye for a long time. He could see Deathwing begin to dissipate into thin air.

Setrastrasza closed her eyes as she could see Sorel's mouth begin to glow again at point-blank range. "I'm sorry... Sorel." She could hear the growl that dragons faintly make when breathing fire.

Then, it stopped. Everything did. She could hear Nefarian faintly call out, "Curse you, mortals! Again and again you never cease to amaze me how resourceful you are. You may have prevented the Day of the Dragon to fall upon you this day, but its second coming is inevitable."

She dared not to open her eyes, but she did anyway. Sorel's mouth was closed, smiling even. His eyes were golden and shined brightly with vivid color. His scales were a sleek, obsidian black and he had one of his paws extended out for her to grab.

She gasped in astonishment and took his hand. Setrastrasza stood next to him, both staring at each other. The smoke in the sky began to life and the sun began to shine once more. "You sure managed to take your time." Setrastrasza added. "I had matters to attend to; I'm here now, though." Sorel paused. "I remembered something A'dal told me."

"You met A'dal?"

Sorel nodded, "He mentioned to me that darkness will come to me before the light."

Sorel saw her shift to her elven form. He turned back to his human form.

"So what happens now?" Setrastrasza asked.

"I saw that others were transformed like me. They do not deserve to share a fate like I have."

"You think you can change them back."

"I only think, yes. Hopefully it'll work."

With that, Setrastrasza stepped back. Sorel slowly closed his eyes. He focused hard on his past. He remembered when the black dragons first attacked them on Tol Barad. He recalled seeing all of the mutated corpses in that prison. He remembered trying to adjust to his new lifestyle with food and movement. Sorel could feel the ground lift off his feet.

Now Sorel focused on the people who were about to share his fate. He pictured how wonderful their lives must have been before all of this happened. Sorel began to transform to his dragon self. He could remember how painful it was waking up for the first time strapped down when feeling rushed through his body. Nobody deserved to go through any of that. Sorel curled into a ball and focused hard. He prayed to the heavens that this would work.

With a gigantic breath, Sorel released his power. A thin layer of translucent light expanded from him. It kept going, and going, and going. When the dragons touched this magnificent energy, the dragon taint was cleansed from them. There was a black and purple smoke that evaporated with the light's contact on them.

Sorel opened his eyes to see all of the clouds of taint dissipate into the air. His feet touched the ground and he began to shake. "That gave me the chills." Sorel mentioned. Setrastrasza walked back up to him as he changed back to his human self.

"You did it, Sorel." She told him, "The people who were transformed are back to normal. They were right about you. You're not just a dragon. You're more than that."

Sorel looked back at her. He could see that her attention quickly shifted just below his eyes. He smiled, "So, do I get some kind of reward?"

"Come here, you hero."

War has its many shapes and forms. The Siege of Stormwind was no different. Even though it was apparent the Black Dragonflight had more numbers at their disposal, Stormwind had the brains and brawn to withstand them. A breeze of cool wind blew through the city. The fires had been extinguished and the smoke began to be swept away into the sky. There are many things in these kinds of conflicts that could be considered the most gratifying. Sometimes it is the smaller things that seemed more pleasurable than others. For Sorel and Setrastrasza, this couldn't be truer.

The two touched each other's lips and embraced the moment. It was more than enough to have fought for. Sorel began to think of the future. His journey wasn't over just yet. He still had to attend to the matters in Northrend with the Spell-Weaver. But, for now, he didn't seem to be bothered by it. Sorel began to close his eyes and let the night slip away from him. 

Chapter XVII

Stormwind's construction force had been working throughout the night trying to repair the damaged city. The never-ending sounds of hammers and other machinery didn't come as a surprise to anyone. They even hired dwarven masons from Ironforge in an attempt to hasten the repairs.

The townsfolk didn't have it as easy, either. Many of whom were afraid to fall back asleep in fear of another wave of dragons rampaging through the city. Others, more or less those affected by the magical black liquid, tossed and turned in their sleep as nightmares filled their heads. Nobody blamed them, but the scars would heal in time.

The morning sun began to peak above the outer walls of Stormwind. The golden rays of the sun danced in the water. The birds began to chirp within the seared trees of the city's cemetery, trying to rebuild their nests. The water churned smoothly down the waterways of the canals. It was the dawn of victory; a victory that was well deserved.

Sorel awoke from his slumber. He quietly looked around him. He found himself in a very nice bedroom. It was a large master bedroom with windows that overlooked the Mage Tower. Sorel squinted as the sun began to light up the room. He looked to his side to see the elegant hand of Setrastrasza on his chest. Setrastrasza lied at his side, sleeping with a smile on her face.

The hour of noon struck. Sorel and Setrastrasza walked through the many districts of Stormwind, surveying the damage the Black Dragonflight had caused. Most of the damage came from the razed wooden roofs of small building. The shingles were scattered all around the ground, shattered like wine bottles and soaked in puddles of water to extinguish the fires. The two enjoyed a nice lunch together in the park. Setrastrasza told Sorel of all that she had learned with her studies with the magi. Sorel told of his adventures in Outland. Setrastrasza laid her food down and turned to him, "Did you ever think about changing your name?" "My name?" Sorel asked back.

"Yes. You know, 'Sorel' isn't something you usually have a dragon carrying around as their name."

"Well, need I remind you that a hybrid dragon isn't something you usually come across these days?"

"True, but a dragon nonetheless." Setrastrasza looked to the clouds for a moment, "Male blacks tend to have –ian or –ion to end their name."

Sorel took a bite out of his sandwich, "So what, you want to throw that into my name? Sorelion?" He laughed.

"Hey! At least I'm trying to help." She began to think, "How about... Draktherian?"

"Nah." Sorel continued to eat. "Are you going to finish your salad?"

Setrastrasza looked back at him, looking a little more serious, "You really don't want to throw that name away, do you?"

"If by my name, you mean my past. It's the only physical thing that I have that connects me to it. My human self looks different ever since this all happened. I can't really explain it in further detail, but I remember looking into the mirror of the ship I was in. When I saw my reflection after the transformation, I didn't look the same. I still don't. I hope you can understand." He began to eat again.

Setrastrasza let those words digest in her head. Sorel continued to eat in spite of the awkward silence.

"I know." She thought out loud, "Sorelstrasz."

Sorel had a hard time swallowing his food, not to mention what he had just heard. Red dragons end their names with –strasz or –strasza, depending on the gender. He knew what that was about. Sorel shifted uneasily, "I'll... I'll think about it."

Setrastrasza had a sense of accomplishment. She went back to her salad. Sorel's attention quickly went back to his food. For some odd reason he was very hungry. Maybe his draconic appetite stayed with his human side. Hopefully the restaurants wouldn't mind giving him a sincere all-you-can-eat lunch.

They both went to the cemetery afterwards. They had the burials of those that fell from yesterday's attack. With everyone wearing black, the dark clouds of sorrow began to thicken. The mourners wiped off their tears and sat on the many benches, watching each of the caskets being lowered in to their tombs below the earth. There were many people who gave out their condolences to the grieving families. The city's leaders were also there and paid their respects. For the guards who lost their lives, a badge of honor was hammered into their tombstone. It symbolized that they died valiantly in an attempt to uphold the flag of the Alliance against whatever foe, regardless of shape or form.

Sorel decided to do something to remember those lost at Tol Barad. That evening, Sorel bought sky lanterns; one for each of his comrades on his ship before it was attacked by the naga and black dragonflight. He wrote personal messages on them to each of them. The last one he wrote to was to Derek.

"_Derek,_

_ I never did tell you how grateful I was to have you with me. You were one hell of a navigator, that's for sure. If my handwriting starts to get sloppy, I apologize. You were there with me through living hell. Somehow, we endured the slavery of Naz'jatar. I still have scars from there all across my back, mostly. Yours must have been worse. You kept fighting with them all the time we were there. When we escaped, I've never seen you so excited in my life. Then the dragons came when we set foot on that damned island of Tol Barad. What they did to you there was of unimaginable horror. I had my fair share of torment, too. I don't want you to know what happened to me there, though. Just know that I'm alright now and I'm beginning to fill out my true purpose here._

_Rest in peace, brother._

_Sorel"_

He lit each of the lanterns with Setrastrasza at his side. The mourners brought their own lanterns as well. One by one, Sorel let them fly into the air. He watched as each lantern glowed bright like a miniature sun, moving farther and farther away to join their brothers and sisters within the stars. Setrastrasza held onto him.

Sorel could see the spectral images of each person the lanterns represented. They all hugged one another and looked back down at Sorel and the others. Sorel's eyes began to shed tears after seeing them smile and waving their hands and saying farewell.

Setrastrasza wiped away his tears, "Are you alright, Sorel?"

He looked back at her, "Yeah. I'm just thinking."

"What about?"

"It's... I don't know, all of this I guess. I always carried with me a quote: 'Everything happens for a reason.' I just never thought there was a real reason behind all that has been happening to me. I kept asking myself, 'Why me, why not someone else?' Nobody deserved this. My men all died trying to return home after being mutated as a wretched experiment. The only difference between me and them is that I survived... somehow." He paused, "So here I am, fighting against those that turned me into this."

"You've forgotten." Setrastrasza told him.

"Forgotten what?"

"Remember what I told you a while back? You're not a human, Sorel. You're a full-fledged dragon now, like me and the rest of us out there. You can't keep having these thoughts come back. There is much more you have yet to learn, Sorel." Setrastrasza pointed up to the sky, "Can you still see those lanterns? Your men didn't die trying to escape torment. They died because they fought for something that they all treasured: life. If none of you went and decided to escape, you wouldn't have made it past a couple more weeks. They didn't want to end that way. They still had things to live for." Setrastrasza now pointed to him, "You, Sorel, still have something to live for."

It was something that Sorel had a hard time understanding. All of this time, he believed he was just traveling a road that he didn't know the end of. He had no idea what to expect would happen to him. But from what Setrastrasza was saying, he needed to look beyond the road and race towards his destination that only he would know what it was.

Setrastrasza could still see doubt in Sorel.

"Here," she told him, "fly with me. I'll show you."

Sorel looked confused, "What about Malygos? We need to make preparations for Northrend."

"It's already under control. I've contacted the Kirin Tor in Dalaran. Now come, Sorelstrasz. Let us take wing."

Sorel assumed that was another name he'd have to bear. Perhaps it was for the best. Sorelstrasz and Setrastrasza dove into the large pond. They emerged as their dragon selves and flew onwards into the sunset.

Chapter XVIII

Further north on the Blue Dragonflight's front of Coldarra was Malygos: the dragon aspect of magic. He stood on one of the many intricate hovering platforms as he watched the rest of his blue dragons preparing for an all-out war against the Kirin Tor.

Malygos had been infuriated as to how some mortals were using his gift of magic. He didn't want another attack from the Burning Legion on Azeroth. He didn't believe anyone was ready for a second possible attack. It was for the best to lay the Kirin Tor down.

Malygos could see some of his dragonkin placing one of the final ley-line rings into place. The runes along the massive ring began to glow as a magnificent stream of pure arcane energy flowed through it, headed directly to the Oculus. The ring amplified the ley-lines that passed through it. When Malygos looked around all of Coldarra to see every last one of those rings, he began to feel pleased with their work. The Oculus hummed with at least 10 fully placed ley-line rings having powerful streams of magic flow up and through it. The beam of pure magical energy dispersed itself into the sky, sending out gigantic waves of light away from its epicenter.

Occasionally there would be explosive sonic booms when a surge of power rushed through a ley-line. Normally these wouldn't be heard since most ley-lines are deep within the earth.

The Spell-Weaver flew back into his domain in the Eye of Eternity. He began to fondle with a hologram display. A flicker of light began to expand in front of him and began to take the form of a portal. At the other end was Dalaran, which had recently been teleported into Crystalsong Forest. Malygos scolded the sight of it hovering in the sky. It was almost like a spy that loomed above and always knew what he was doing. Malygos didn't like the thought at all.

He tossed the image aside and created a new one. The image of Stormwind began to show. Malygos knew that the Alliance and the Kirin Tor often worked hand in hand with each other when it came to these supernatural ordeals. But even the Spell-Weaver was astounded with what he saw. Dragons, black dragons, were invading the city. "What is this?" He asked himself. Malygos began to further examine.

The city was filled with smoke and flame. Then, a cold chill ran down the dragon aspect's spine. _"No, it can't be."_ Malygos thought, _"I sense the presence of Deathwing there."_ He could see dozens of dragons begin to pour what appeared to be some kind of black liquid onto the houses and buildings. Malygos caught the glimpse of one unfortunate human running along the streets to be bathed in it. The man fell to his knees as his body began to swell up. His clothes began to tear and rip. A tail sprouted out from his lower spine and wings began to form on his back. Horns on his head began to extend out.

Malygos watched the man painfully transform into a mighty black dragon. "Inconceivable!" He yelled in rage, "Even THEY got a hold of MY power!" The shear thought of converting mortals into dragons was blasphemy. Then Malygos saw a gargantuan dragon on the rooftop of the cathedral. The eyes of the beast glowed like lava. "So, brother," the Spell-Weaver said, "you finally show yourself to the world. Maybe now we can finish this little game of charades once and for all."

He called to his consort, "Saragosa!"

At his side, a great blue dragon materialized at the blink of an eye. It was Saragosa. "Yes, your greatness?"

"Look before you. It seems the blacks are making a stand of their own. You know what that means."

She nodded, "I will tell Eregos and Varos Cloudstrider to hasten their work."

"Good. Our time is almost upon us, my mate."

"Let's hope Dalaran will lend me some entertainment. Fights are always boring when they aren't a challenge."

"What about our efforts at our dragonshrine? How is our offensive holding against Wyrmrest?"

"It has been a while since I last checked, my love. The last I remember hearing was of a few days ago. Our surprise attack caused Alexstrasza to build Wyrmrest's defense with more opposing dragons. It's been an ongoing stalemate."

"Hmm." Malygos pondered, "If can claim victory over Wyrmrest, it will prove to be a turning point to the better." He paused. "Saragosa, I want you to return to the blue dragonshrine and tell them to cross into the ley-lines before engaging battle."

Saragosa gasped, "What of their well-being? Will they be alright?"

"When they touch a stream of pure magical energy, it will rush through their body as quick as a strike of lightning. The magic will not hurt them, but instead will amplify their power nearly tenfold both physically and magically."

"I will tell them at once. I shall return, Malygos."

Sorel and Setrastrasza flew back to a place that Sorel began to remember far too well. They landed outside the old, rusty, and abandoned prison of Tol Barad. "Is this it?" Setrastrasza asked him.

Sorel had this blank stare on him. He was remembering. "Yeah."

"What a ran down place this is." She replied, "I bet there is something still in here to get the dragon out of you."

"I sure hope so, Setrastrasza."

They both began to enter the abandoned prison. All of the lights that Sorel could barely remember were extinguished. There was nothing but utter darkness. They shifted back to their mortal forms. Setrastrasza began to cast a spell. A small sphere of light appeared and illuminated the area. "Wow, you learned how to do that?" Sorel asked her. She smiled, "Oh, there's much more I've learned, too."

Sorel began to sense the presence of all those that died here. It was as if they were angry at him for being the only one to have survived. He stayed close to Setrastrasza. As they continued to walk, they came across a large room. The sphere of light couldn't extend its luminosity to see all around. Setrastrasza flicked her hand in the air and they both watched the sphere begin to multiply.

Slowly, the room began to light up. There were books thrown everywhere on the floor and some still on bookshelves. They could see pictures and drawings on the walls and on tables. Cobwebs were all over the place. There was a thick fog of smoke that covered the ground. "Look for something interesting." Setrastrasza called out to him.

They scrambled around, skimming through books. Most of which had to deal with the anatomy of dragons, humans, and magic. The books were in some kind of gibberish to Sorel, but there were very detailed pictures that he could infer what they meant. "Setra, what language are these in?"

"Draconic, the language of dragons. We don't use it as much as we used to with the interactions of mortals. Some continue to use it to keep their heritage." She then browsed through another book, "This one is talking about the hormones of dragons. For males, it says... fighting triggers the draconic instincts. What say you?"

"Well, I know there were times I thought more fluidly, if that makes sense."

She nodded, "Yes. And for you, that's your dragon self that is helping. I bet your first fight as a dragon was difficult. It wouldn't surprise me if your hormones weren't fully developed after the transformation."

"To be honest, I think they were."

"Really!"

"Yeah. I fought against Nazan, who was an enslaved netherdrake of this fel orc named Vazruden, I think. I flew as fast as him and out maneuvered him in the end."

Setrastrasza couldn't believe it. "So you must be much stronger than you realize, Sorelstrasz. Who knows what your true potential is?"

"It seems when one question is answered, a thousand more take its place."

"Maybe we're overthinking this." She thought. "You have a lot of questions. I can see that. But maybe the ones that you've had your mind on lie within."

"Maybe."

"I'll snag a couple of these books to look over later. Do you want to return to Stormwind?"

Sorelstrasz looked around. He looked down the hallway that leads further into the old prison. It was calling to him. "No, not yet."

He followed his heart and began to walk cautiously down the halls. Setrastrasza became curious and followed him. The two were silent and listened around themselves. Sorel made several lefts and rights, going down stairs and doorways. Eventually they found themselves staring down an endless hallway.

Sorel motioned her to follow closely. They both slowly walked into the darkness with only Setrastrasza's magical light to see with. There was a vault-like door at the end. It seemed faintly familiar to Sorel. He grabbed the handles of it and nodded at her. The door creaked open as the rusty hinges grinded on itself. The sound was echoed all around them. There was a small bang when the door hit the side of the wall. Setrastrasza stepped forward and illuminated the room once more.

Setrastrasza gasped at what she saw. There were dragons hanging from a large metal hook from the ceiling. Mutated humans, elves, and orcs lied in puddles of their own blood. Glass fragments were everywhere. The bodies were malformed with some of their limbs changed to match a dragon's.

"Look before you, Setrastrasza." Sorel said. "Look at all of those who died at the hands of the Black Dragonflight. And for what, to be a brainwashed minion?"

She didn't know how to respond. She just stood there, looking at the horrors that befell each person. Then she looked back at Sorel. "All of this... I can't imagine what they must have gone through. You're truly blessed, Sorel, that you didn't share their fate." She looked back at him, seeing the anger in his eyes. Deep down, she could see something that he probably couldn't. It was a proud and valiant dragon, just waiting for the right moment to shine.

"It could have been much worse, yes. But I think I'm seeing things in a new way. I remember when I was first here, afraid of what I had become. I was afraid I had lost everything." Sorelstrasz looked over some of the bodies. "I didn't see a point in me living like this. I couldn't go back to my family, friends, or anyone. I felt abandoned by the hand of the black dragons. But now..." He turned to Setrastrasza, "Now I'm not afraid of what I've become. Deathwing sought to use that against me, no doubt, but with your faith I was able to take control of myself. I don't know if I would have made it out without you."

"You just needed a good kick in the stern. And you're welcome, Sorelstrasz. But when did you decide to change your mind about yourself?" Setrastrasza curiously asked. "You definitely weren't like that before we left."

"I think it was coming back here that really changed that. I know that my men that died here would still want the best of me with the life I have. I won't let them down, not after what they did to them."

"So you must be ready then."

"You know, I think I am. Let's get back to Stormwind. This place doesn't need us to disturb its silence."

Sorelstrasz helped Setrastrasza walk through the darkened halls of rusted metal. They begin to disappear in the fog. Before they vanished, it can be faintly seen that the both of them are holding hands.

Chapter XIX

The human capital's harbor was highly busy when Sorel and Setrastrasza returned. Dozens of ships were on the dock. People were walking to and from the pier to the hangars. It was more crowded than the start of the Stormwind Stock Exchange. Sorel could see engineered flying machines being pulled out of the rear hangar, with flaggers assisting in directing them.

The two of them could see Jaina Proudmoore and Varian Wrynn walk up to them. Varian looked up at Sorelstrasz. "You're lucky to have escaped, dragon. The damages you caused have set us back weeks." Jaina interrupted him, "Varian, he wasn't in control of himself. Deathwing should be the one you extend your frustrations at." "Regardless," Varian turned back to Sorel, "if you didn't die at Deathwing's hand, you would have died at mine." "Understood, your highness." Sorel replied.

"Good. It was rather fortunate to have the attack, though. While you two were gone, the Scourge attacked us as well. Luckily, it wasn't nearly as bad as the previous one. But we are setting sail for Northrend."

Setrastrasza was puzzled, "Northrend? May I ask why?"

Jaina decided to answer. "Their leader, Arth- the Lich King, has been left unchecked for years. The Scourge have never been this offensive before in a while."

Varian Wrynn continued for her. "The Lich King must be brought to justice before anyone else suffers the curse of undeath."

Jaina nodded and turned to Setrastrasza. "Our forces will take you to deal with Malygos, but our primary goal is to stop the Scourge. I have told the Kirin Tor to aid you in your fight. They might have informed Wyrmrest Temple as well."

"There is, however, a group of the Kirin Tor down at the pier. Perhaps you two should seek them out."

Sorel nodded, "Alright then. We'll take care of Malygos for you. Will... there be room for us to travel on your ships?"

"We have a merc ship for you to board. It hasn't come in just yet, but it's on its way."

Sorel and Setrastrasza took their leave. They flew into the air and soared above the harbor. They could see so many people scurrying about like little ants from their height. They began to descend to the pier. The seagulls scattered off to make way for the landing dragons. Sorel could see a group of the Kirin Tor looking at them. Eventually they moved towards Sorel and Setrastrasza.

Sorel was the first to engage conversation. "The Kirin Tor, I take it?"

One of them stepped forward and replied, "Greetings, Seeker. You are correct. We are representatives of the Kirin Tor from Dalaran. Rhonin has been in contact with Jaina Proudmoore about the situation regarding the Blue Dragonflight."

Setrastrasza began to ask the questions. "How is the situation?"

"They have managed to create two primary areas as their strongholds. The first one is within the Borean Tundra on a mountainous island called Coldarra. The other is located at their dragonshrine in Dragonblight. They began to engage combat with Wyrmrest Temple a couple days ago. The Lifebinder, Alexstrasza, has been struggling keeping them from taking over the temple along with the portals to each of the flight's sanctums." The mage began to create holographic images to display the current images of both Coldarra and Wyrmrest. "Malygos believes there are many magic users who are abusing their power with the arcane and seeks to eliminate them utterly. Unfortunately for us, he has decided to take his anger out on Dalaran. Coldarra is where he is magnifying the power of the ley-lines. We don't know what he plans on doing with that much energy, but it is highly powerful and unstable. There could be dramatic side-effects that could change the face of our planet entirely."

"Where will we be going once at Northrend?"

"I have specific orders to take you to Wyrmrest as soon as possible. The Lifebinder requires both of your presences."

Sorel whispered in Setrastrasza's ear, "I really don't want to ride in that ship Wrynn has for us. Merc ships are poorly kept up to sailing standards. Is there another way for us to travel?"

She whispered back, "I might know a way."

Setrastrasza shifted into her elven self. The golden accessories on her robe and shoulder guards glistened in the sunlight. Sorel changed to his human form as well. Setrastrasza turned back to the Kirin Tor magi. "We would take a boat over to Northrend, but seeing as time is of the essence, can we have a portal?"

"I'll give you a tip, too." Sorel added.

The mage turned down Sorel's offer. "No tip, but 25 gold pieces will suffice."

"25 gold pieces? Are you insa-"

Setrastrasza slapped Sorel's mouth shut. "Deal."

Sorel sighed as he reached into his pocket for the money. The Kirin Tor conjured up a portal with a smirk on each of their faces. He handed the mage the gold coin. After counting each and every piece, he allowed them to take the portal.

Sorel pulled Setrastrasza to him. "I can't believe how overpriced portals are, nowadays."

"They need to make a living somehow, Sorel. I doubt they are paid significantly."

"If there's anything about magic that I do know, it's that portals require items that can be bought with mere pocket change! It's unbelievable to see them up their prices like this."

Sorel continued to rant to Setrastrasza, but she merely rolled her eyes and shoved Sorel through the portal. She could hear him yell back at her saying, "Hey!" but one second later, he was swept into the portal. She laughed and followed him to Wyrmrest.

A steel cage slammed against the ancient walls of Blackrock Spire. The remains of Nefarian's offensive force against Stormwind rushed into the depths of Hordemar City. As for Nefarian, himself, he continued to toss anything at his disposal around in anger and frustration. "Years of hard work, washed away like nothing!" He punched at the stone walls and began to knock off small rock fragments.

He began to mumble to himself. "I can't believe that my own creation would turn on me. And those foolish mortals. How could they have defeated so many of my forces?" Nefarian thought while gazing out of the opening in Blackwing Lair onto the lands of the Searing Gorge and the Burning Steppes. "What about my creation? He's running amuck now... Planning retaliation against me, no doubt!"

Nefarius tossed a black powder in the air. It began to shift slowly into the form the silhouette of Deathwing's head. "I want to have a word with you." Deathwing glared back at his son. It was apparent both were not pleased at all with the failure at Stormwind.

"Speak."

"Very well." Nefarian said, "How could you have let some mortal defeat your magic to possess him? The plan was foolproof, yet even you couldn't fill your end of the bargain. You ruined my plans and now the blues will run rampant for many more years to come!"

"You think me defeated?" Deathwing chuckled, "When he was trying to resist my control, I noticed something within him. He has the blessing of a Naaru named A'dal. Sorel's destiny intertwines with our goal. That is why."

"Intertwines... bah! I call your bluff, father. You didn't even mention this to me. We lost hundreds of dragons. Hundreds! And for what, to go off your instincts? Leave me."

"His fate leads him to Northrend. The Spell-Weaver will fall at his hands. I'll laugh at you when that day soon comes. But..." Deathwing's voice began to lower, "... If you wish for me to leave... So be it."

Nefarian watched the black cloud dissipate into the air. It was quiet... too quiet for him to be comfortable with. He began to have a bad feeling about this. He ran down the halls of his lair. Everyone was gone. "What is this?" He thought out loud.

As he continued down into the lower spire, more grim news began to develop in his head. Not a soul was anywhere. It was just him. "This can't be! Where did everyone run off to!" He shifted into his undead dragon form and flew downwards into Hordemar City.

Nefarian continued to soar and look across the many levels of the old, underground city. The more he searched, the more he realized how empty everything was. The rage within him could be seen in his eyes. He landed on the lower tier of the city, next to a lake of magma that.

"So..." he said to himself, "you leave me... and take away everyone else with you? You leave me to rot away in the mountains? I'll show you, father." Nefarian turned around and walked. There was a deep and dark cavern he walked further into. The red glow of the molten rock faded away into black. "I saved this as a last resort. I can't stop now. Not with my failures of the past beginning to fade."

The Lord of Blackrock opened a mighty vault. Inside was a single, lonely corpse of a dragon. But to him, it wasn't just any dragon. It definitely wouldn't be some dragon that would escape his clutches, nor would it be something his father could take from him.

For him, although it seemed like he had been beaten and abandoned; the path to victory was right before him. He could see it. It was so close to his grasp, he could feel it.

"You're next on my project list, sister."

Nefarian looked upon the remains of his fallen sibling. She was headless. Her body was partially decomposed. Her forelimbs and tail were nothing but bone. There were parts of her where blood had literally stained the scales it touched. There were many wounds all around her sides. They ranged from mere slash marks to puncture wounds. Nefarian then started out the enclosed chamber, leaving the corpse of his deceased sister, Onyxia, to return into the darkness.

Chapter XX

On the other side of the portal was Wyrmrest Temple. It towered above any other part of Dragonblight. The only problem was that there were dragons. Everywhere. In fact, there was nothing but dragons. Several red dragons circled the tower whereas others were standing guard. Some were chasing down the many blue dragons that were attacking the Temple. Quite frankly, there were blues all around them. The reds and blues were in an all out war with each other.

Sorel could see the victors roar in triumph where the defeated fell to their deaths hundreds of feet below. Setrastrasza looked worried about the situation. She was obviously in pain seeing her brethren fall. Hopefully with Sorel's arrival, she wouldn't have to bear witness to it much longer.

"Ah, the Seeker I presume?" A voice called from behind. They both turned to see a single blood elf. Her dark skin tone had a light reddish hue to it. Her hair was like shining rubies. There were two broad horns coming out of her temples that were decorated with jewels. She wore a lavender pendant around her neck. If there was anything Sorel wondered, it was why she decided to wear a golden armored bikini in the middle of an arctic continent. Regardless, he did think it matched her fairly well.

Setrastrasza went to one knee before her. "My queen," she said, "I have brought the Seeker with us, yes." Sorel was slightly confused about what was happening, but it slowly began to make more and more sense. Sorel was standing in front of the Red Dragon Aspect of Life: the Queen of the Dragons. Setrastrasza glanced at Sorel, sending him thought-speak commands to kneel, but he seemed to be oblivious.

"Well then, we should finish our conversation where everyone isn't causing such a commotion." The Dragon Queen said. She motioned to an old high elf that bore a horrific scar across the side of his face. He spoke not a word, but raised his hand slowly over them. A shroud of arcane magic began to engulf them. Sorel quickly noticed the high elf was missing one of his fingers on his hand. His mind began to wonder more and more about this man.

When the shroud lifted, Sorel and Setrastrasza found themselves in a place of serenity. There were ruby trees all around them. The grass resembled emeralds and the stars in the sky were like tiny diamonds. "What is this place?" Sorel asked. The Dragon Queen turned to him. "Below Wyrmrest are five portals. One for each dragonflight. They each go to their respective sanctums. This is the Sanctum of the Red Dragonflight, also known as the Ruby Sanctum."

"I never did introduce myself to you, Sorel. I am Alexstrasza, Dragon Aspect of the Red Dragonflight. This is my consort, Krasus." Krasus looked down, his attention somewhere else. Sorel turned back to Alexstrasza. She continued, "We know why you're here. And we believe you can stand up against Malygos and end this war."

"War?" Sorel asked, "When did this war break out?"

"A couple days ago we noticed the Blue Dragonflight was beginning to move towards their dragonshrine, just south of here. Ever since then, they've began to attack us here." Her voice began to grow more serious. "They've been strengthened. The blue dragons have been picking off my brood one by one with ease."

"The only possible way they could be doing that is through magic." Krasus quietly said. He was still looking out into space. "I've felt the ley lines shift directions. Malygos is redirecting them into one central location." He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of air. "West. The ley lines are going to the west."

Alexstrasza took hold of Sorel's attention, "We are fortunate to have you with us for this. If there has been anything I have learned from you, it is that you are much more powerful compared to your ordinary dragon. You might be able to stand a fighting chance against Malygos."

Sorel looked around, "I don't know my full potential. I never strived to achieve it or wanted to. But even with the strength that I have shown, I do know that I am more capable compared to the others."

"I believe if you want to end this war, you will need to unlock that potential, Sorel."

Sorel wasn't looking forward to that.

Setrastrasza moved back into the conversation, "My queen, when do you want us to push the blues back? We can't keep acting defensively. We're not in a good enough position to stand our ground."

The Life-Binder stood there in thought. "I must first council with the other dragonflight ambassadors." She grasped onto her necklace, "When the opportunity shows itself, we will make our stand. Malygos is growing far too powerful for his own good. I will not stand around watching my flight die in vain." She turned to Sorel and Setrastrasza, "Follow me to the ambassadors. They will want to hear what you have to say about this."

Alexstrasza slowly walked beside Krasus who extended his hand to hers. Setrastrasza did the same with Sorel. No one spoke a word. Sorel was curious about how he was going to fight against a dragon aspect. Although Sorel easily remembered his ongoing struggle with Deathwing not so long ago in Stormwind, this would be much different. Sorel would actually have to battle against the Spell-Weaver. Sorel wasn't sure how the outcome would turn out, but he did know one thing. This was something Sorel needed to do.

He always wanted to find his purpose. Sorel could feel something churn within his body that wanted him to do this. It felt so strange when he thought about it. Sorel wouldn't know that is his developing dragon instincts that are continuing to slowly replace his human instinct until it was too late.

"Setrastrasza." Sorel called to her. She stopped and turned to him, "What is it Sorelstrasz?"

"Do you think we can defeat the Aspect of Magic?"

She paused, slowly looking down.

"I need to know what you think."

Setrastrasza looked back up to him, "I... I don't know."

It wasn't the answer Sorel was looking to hear.

Before he took his leave, a flicker of light caught his attention. He looked back to Setrastrasza. She was already stepping through the portal. Sorel crept away and moved closer to the light. At the top of one of the hills was a pedestal. Water flowed all around it like a fountain. There was a sphere atop the pedestal that was placed snugly into a deep groove. The orb was glowing in a crimson hue. It would occasionally flicker and hum.

"Come on, Sorel!"

Sorel quickly dashed away, glancing back at the mysterious orb. He wasn't sure what it was, but it had to be of great importance to Alexstrasza.

He followed the impatient Setrastrasza through the sanctum's portal.

On top of the island of Coldarra, the Oculus continued to spray the magical energies of all the concentrated ley lines out into the atmosphere. It would travel great lengths into the air before it would disperse into the sky, forming glowing shockwaves across the sky.

Malygos stood atop one of the spire needles that hovered around Coldarra. He scanned the land with his old and aged eyes. He gazed around the Borean Tundra. When Malygos looked to the south, his attention was caught by two settlements. The architecture of each gave away who the inhabitants were. "The Horde and Alliance are here." Malygos said. Warsong Hold and Valliance Keep. The anger inside him began to stir once more. He had already been delivered the news of his consort being slain by the red dragons. He already took his revenge out on Keristrasza and held her captive within the lower domains of the Nexus. The Blue Dragonflight was embedding magical runes on her sides in an attempt to convert her to the will of Malygos. Then, she would be able to take the role as his consort.

Malygos continued to stare down the Horde and Alliance settlements. His wings began to open to their full wingspan. Each wing was mildly transparent with a sky blue tint. The Spell-Weaver's wings began to flap slowly. The gust of wind that came from his wings blew off small pebbles and dust that had settled where he stood. Soon, he was hovering inches above the ground. Malygos began to move forward.

There were three blue dragons that followed him, but Malygos quickly dismissed them with a small gesture. He continued to fly ever so slowly. He was still very far away from them, but he took a deep breath in.

A low hum began to sound and increase in volume. It was quickly followed by sounds of magic energy. The maw of Malygos began to glow white. His runes on his sides and forelimbs began to flicker and glow. For a quick moment, it became instantly silent. Malygos' eyes were flaring wildly.

A beam of pure arcane magic exploded from Malygos. The recoil set the Aspect of Magic back. The magical stream of power ruptured the land surrounding Warsong Hold. Rocks were tossed into the air like toys... large and heavy toys. The ground shook at the power unleased.

It then began to move towards Valliance Keep, tearing everything in its path and leaving a gaping crater as its aftermath. Malygos wanted it to be clear that this wasn't their war to fight. This was between him and the Kirin Tor. But as he began to sweep his arcane beam around the Alliance settlement, he knew he'd have to deal with the Red Dragonflight first and foremost.

Malygos began to dismiss the beam, watching it dissipate into nothing. The loud and eerie hum vanished as well as the blazing fires from Malygos' eyes. He could see in the distance the Horde and Alliance scurrying out into the open all battle ready. The Spell-Weaver ascended into the clouds and roared.

It was rare for anyone to hear the roar of a dragon aspect. It was even more rare if you could still hear afterwards. The shrill cry of Malygos was high pitched and rang into everyone's ears. Fragile rocks shattered at his booming roar. The sound waves pushed the clouds further and further away from him. The mortals pressed their hands on their ears. Some collapsed to the ground as blood seeped between their hands and poured out of their ears. This was the merciless warning of the Aspect of Magic.

The Spell-Weaver looked at the mortals from afar. They looked at him in shock, fear, awe, there was too many emotions he saw that it would be impossible to go into further detail. The sound of gravel churning indicated someone took a step backward. Soon, others followed. Eventually, every last one of the Horde and Alliance retreated back in their shelters.

With them out of the way, Malygos smirked at flew back into Coldarra. _"The time to strike is now!"_ He thought to himself. He continued to fly straight towards the Oculus. At the center, the concentrated flow of ley lines continued to shoot from the ground into the sky. Malygos knew that this would be a potentially dangerous idea, but he would have to endure it if he wanted to get an advantage over Alexstrasza. He flew straight into the concentrated strands of arcane energy. The magical power began to alter its direction and slowly began to seep through the scales of Malygos. A fire began to flow into his veins and he cried in pain. The sky above began to darken with titanic clouds. The sound of thunder began to grow quickly. The Spell-Weaver's cry caused all of the blue dragons to turn to the Oculus and bear witness to what was happening. They too began to grow worried, fearful even. Lightning struck several trees and parts of the Oculus as well. Malygos was still enduring the pain of the magical ley lines, levitating by such tremendous power coursing through him.

Then, it happened. One final strike of lightning struck Malygos. It became so bright that only a silhouette of the dragon aspect could be seen. After the loud boom of thunder, it became eerily silent. All that could be heard was the sparking of magic and electricity from the Oculus. Malygos opened his eyes. They glowed like amber_. "YOU WILL NOT WIN THE NEXUS WAR. NOT NOW. NOT EVER!" _

Varok Saurfang and Garrosh Hellscream rushed outside, fighting against the incoming crowd of cowardly Horde. They both quickly stopped and looked over the edge of the trail of Malygos' mighty arcane beam. "What kind of beast could hold such power?" Garrosh rhetorically asked. Saurfang tapped his shoulder and pointed to Coldarra. They could both faintly see Malygos in the air. He lashed out a circle of white magic that expanded outwards from him. It looked like an angelic halo that stretched out to ridiculous lengths. The arcane halo cleared the sky in mere seconds. "Holy shit..." Garrosh managed to say. "Garrosh, I think this is the first thing you and I can finally agree upon." Saurfang replied.

They watched as the Aspect of Magic soared into the east, followed shortly after by a swarm of blue dragons. It was like a so rare to see something so terrifying yet so amazing at the same time. "We aren't safe here in Northrend." Varok sighed.

"I could have told you that weeks ago before we even set sail here."

"There is a bigger threat out there now that we can't hope to deal with. Hold your men in Warsong Hold until this 'Nexus War' has finished."

"You will not tell me how to command MY army, old man! You may have been sent here to advise me, but I am fully capable of knowing how to lead my men!"

"You'd sooner die from your foolishness if you chose to go out there. Do you want to have the respect of the Horde that Thrall has? Doing so requires you to think about all consequences before you rush blindly into an unknown fate. We aren't in a position to deal with the Scourge AND the Blue Dragonflight."

"Bah."

"You are much like your father, Garrosh, but I will not see you deprive everything the Horde has long worked for. Let's go back inside."

The two storm back inside Warsong Hold. Varok Saurfang looks back once more, seeing the swarm of dragons fade into Dragonblight. He wondered what was about to unfold upon the land of the Frozen Wastes.

Chapter XXI

There were many restless arguments between each ambassador of the dragonflights. Sorel and Setrastrasza seemed to be pulled into the middle of it. It was ironic that they were fighting while in the presence of the Orb of Unity. Among the ambassadors were Kalecgos, representing the Blue Dragonflight. Lord Itharius represented the Green Dragonflight. Nalice was the representative of the Black Dragonflight. There was also Chromie, who was the voice of the Bronze Dragonflight. Finally, Alexstrasza was the Red Dragonflight's representative.

"I can assure you that Malygos has once again fallen into insanity!" Kalecgos assured the rest. "The few of us that have chosen not to follow him see his destructive path will only cause decimation to our flight."

"I never wanted to have to go against another of my brothers." Alexstrasza told him. "Neltharion was the first. I was fearful Malygos would follow his path many years ago, but he recovered. But now, it has come to where actions must be taken.

"Ysera has promised to give you aid in this matter, Alexstrasza. Though she still wanders the Emerald Dream, she has given you her blessing." Itharius mentioned.

Nalice stayed strangely quiet, keeping one eye on Sorel.

Setrastrasza looked around. "What's going on?" Everyone's attention turned to her as she looked outside the temple. They all began to look around. They were surprised at what they saw. "The blue dragonflgith, they're... retreating?" They all turned to Kalecgos. Kalecgos looked at them individually for a brief moment. "He's coming." He faintly said. Kalecgos sensed a great presence skyrocketing towards them. "HE'S COMING!"

No sooner had Kalecgos spoke, a rip of sound deafened the dragons. The temple shook wildly as smoke began to rise in the air. They all rushed to the edge to see the side of Wyrmrest Temple had been torn asunder. There were fragments of the pieces scattered everywhere across the snow. Sorel looked over to the west. His eyes narrowed at what he saw.

Malygos himself was on a direct course for him and the other dragons. Behind the leviathan aspect was an army of blue dragons. "If you're not interested in fighting off an army of dragons I suggest you take shelter. Now." Sorel said.

Sorelstrasz ran off the edge and the chilling winds rushed past the sides of his body from face to feet. He quickly took on his draconic form. His wings expanded as the wind pressed against them. Setrastrasza quickly followed his lead. Krasus accompanied Alexstrasza, followed by Kalecgos, Chromie, and Itharius. Nalice stayed, being as shady as she always seemed to be. She watched them all soar into battle and watched as the Wyrmrest dragons began to aid the others as well. "Father," she called out, "it has begun."

Sorel soared stopped in midflight and looked at the skies above. The clouds began to turn dark and ominous. The winds began to pick up as well and snowflakes began to fall from above. He looked behind himself to see Setrastrasza and the other dragons catch up to him. To his front, he could see the army of the Blue Dragonflight rush in to engage battle.

He watched as the blue leviathan soared over him and collided with the red leviathan. Malygos and Alexstrasza began to wrestle with each other in the air and plummeted into the ground. Dragons began fighting dragons. It was an utter war zone. Red dragons against blue dragons. Fireballs and arcane missles began to fly across the air, seeking to hit their foes. Sorel and Setrastrasza could see drakes and dragons alike beginning to fall like rocks all around them, both red and blue alike.

Malygos began slash and bite at Alexstrasza who was attempting to do the same to him. "My sister, why do you aid these foolish mortals and not your own brother?" Alexstrasza spat fire at him, hitting him on the side of the neck. He released her and flew back. "Because, brother, it is not they who have lost themselves to power!"

"I have not lost myself to power! It is those reckless, careless mortals who are to blame for this war! I do what I must, sister..." He said staring Alexstrasza down, "and if that means their extinction, then so be it!" Malygos flew away from her.

Sorel began to fly over to Alexstrasza. "Lifebinder, are you alright?" She began to compose herself and stood at Sorel's attention. "Don't let Malygos get near the temple! We must not lose it to the Blue Dragonflight!" Sorel looked over to see Setrastrasza fly away and began to fight of the rest of the empowered blue dragons.

She hopped from dragon to dragon, mauling each and every blue she landed on. Setrastrasza wasn't after blood, she was after their wings. No dragon could survive such a perilous fall without their wings. She tore at them until flight was an impossibility. The crimson dragon would occasionally wrestle with other blues who would prepare to breathe fire on her. Unfortunately for them, Setrastrasza could conjure up a fireball quicker than they. She shot liquid fire right into their throats and instantly began to tear away at their insides. As they fell, Setrastrasza predicted they were dead before they were crushed by the ground.

Alexstrasza flew off to catch the attention of the Spell-Weaver. Malygos was busy fighting off four ruby dragons. Every time he would strike, there was another dragon trying to strike at his side. When he saw Alexstrasza hurling towards him he rolled into a ball, using his wings as a shield. With a powerful explosion of his muscles, he created a gust of wind that sent his bothersome opponents flying in all directions. He then braced for Alexstrasza's impact.

The tackle was enough to knock the wind out of Malygos' lungs. The Lifebinder's claws seeped deep into his chest. The Spell-Weaver quickly spun around, carrying Alexstrasza with him and thrusted his hind legs into her abdomen. She spun in the air, flipping and turning and spinning. Eventually she stabilized herself and arced around for another strike at him. They both fired beams of pure energy at each other. They struck the other and an explosion formed from the shear amount of power. Alexstrasza flew around and hovered above, glaring down at Malygos. "You will not succeed while I draw breath, Alexstrasza! You've chosen your side AND your fate! When you're out of my way, nothing will stop me from restoring balance to this world!"

"You speak of balance as if you still remember what it means! I urge you to stop this foolishness or I will have no choice but to kill you." Alexstrasza cried.

"Ahahaha! You have hopes of besting me? Well then, sister... Watch helplessly as your hopes are swept away!" Malygos flew off. He swept around Wyrmrest Temple and began to pluck red dragons from the sky one by one. His favorite move was to dive down onto them and bury his claws into their backs. The red dragons would instantly become paralyzed from the neck down and fall like rocks to their deaths.

Sorel could see fireballs being hurled back and forth. Some crashed into the snow and ice. There was a long pathway coming from the north and descended into an icy chasm just below the temple where the sanctums were. Large shards of ice began to crumble off and fall into the deep cavern. He turned his attention to an oncoming azure drake with runes scattered all across its body. It lasted its tail at Sorel's face. Sorel began to spiral out of control into the chasm.

When he managed to look up after he slammed into the ground, the drake scanned the area looking for him. Eventually the drake was pleased with what it saw and flew away. It didn't surprise Sorel he was after more blood. He staggered up, trying to get some boulders of ice off of him. He heard another roar of a dying dragon from above.

He turned his head to the entrance the entrance of the dragon sanctums. Sorel was faced with a tough decision. He closed his eyes with anger and flew into the entrance. As he opened his eyes, Sorel noticed the lack of drakonid guards. They all must have been called to aid against the blues. As he looked around the large chamber he saw the five portals again, each of which lead to the individual sanctums of each dragonflight. He ventured back into the Sanctum of the Red Dragonflight.

The red dragons eventually managed to take advantage over the blue dragons. Although the blues did have the advantage in strength, the reds were more strategy. They worked as a team to bring them down. They had a lot of ground to make up for, though. Their numbers against the blues was also smaller. They had to act fast before the battle leaned any further for the blues' favor.

"Alexstrasza!" Malygos cried after slaughtering another red dragon, "Another of your brood falls!" Malygos enjoyed taunting his sister. He knew her weakness was trying to fight against those she loved. But for Malygos himself, the decision to go against her had to be done. It was the only way to show her the wrongness in the world.

_"Not so fast, Spell-Weaver!"_ The voice spoke in Malygos' head. It only took a quick second for him to register who it was. As he began to speak, he was bombarded fireballs across his side. As another second passed, a claw traveled from his side and swept upwards all the way up his neck. Blood danced freely in the air. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a crimson leviathan. _"Korialstrasz!"_

Immediately, Malygos fired bolts of fire and ice and arcane magic at him rapidly. Korialstrasz managed to escape the barrage aside from one striking his upper tail. "Argh! Enough!" The Spell-Weaver called out, "I'm sick of these games! If you intend to reclaim Azeroth's magic, then you shall have it!" He retreated back to the blue dragonshrine. A mighty vortex became to sweep around the Spell-Weaver as he opened his maw again. A stirring noise began to increase in frequency, rising higher and higher at an increasing rate. A large sound of an explosion erupted across the battlefield. A blinding array of lights scattered all around as the earth below deteriorated, no. It disintegrated.

As visibility settled back in, everyone beheld to the true power that Malygos possessed. The flow of ley lines had changed paths from Coldarra. Instead, they were altered to erupt out of the blue dragonshrine. As the energy beamed up high into the sky, dark clouds started to roll in and blocked out the burning sun.

Setrastrasza gazed at the chaos. She was even oblivious to the cuts and bruises on her body. "Sorel." She said. "I have to find Sorel." She looked around. Everything seemed to lose saturation in color, everything was slowing down. Setrastrasza could see the crossfire between dragons. One azure dragon had just sliced the face of red dragon, its claws tainted in blood. Another was seeing its life flash before its eyes as a fireball was inching closer to the helpless adversary. Setrastrasza turned to see Malygos changing his attention from the blue dragonshrine to Alexstrasza, who had been showing signs of fatigue in her body language. Aspect versus aspect. It was such a glorious thing to see, but at the same time it was the sign of true imbalance upon Azeroth. The dragon aspects were supposed to uphold peace and serenity with the others; not use their powers against each other.

Everything reverted back to normal. Setrastrasza scanned around, looking for him. Nowhere.

"Sorel, where did you fly off to? We need you!" She then spoke much more quietly, "I need you..."

Chapter XXII

Sorel didn't have time to admire how beautiful the Ruby Sanctum was. He could sense the battle raging on at Wyrmrest without end. The birds continued to chirp in the crimson trees. He knew what he was looking for before he had even entered the sanctum. There was a strange feeling within him that knew whatever he was looking for was a highly important artifact.

The sound of water began to sound in his ears. He turned to its origin. The cold stone pedestal fountain stood planted in the ground. Sorel transformed back into his human form and approached it cautiously. He could see the water sparkle down the sides and fall into a small gap indented in the earth. Atop the pedestal was what he had been looking for.

"The Orb of the Red Dragonflight." The voice alarmed Sorel to where he turned around, readying his fist as it shifted to that of a dragon. He quickly halted himself as he realized it was no other than Krasus. Sorel withdrew his hand. He watched as Krasus strolled around the pedestal, observing the sphere intently.

"Why did you follow me here, Krasus?"

"No, don't call me by my mortal name. I am Korialstrasz, consort of the Life-Binder. Why are you here, Seeker?"

"Questions aren't answered by questions, my friend."

"Answers answer questions. Now state why you are here and not helping fend off the Blue Dragonflight."

Sorel's mood was beginning to worsen. "The orb is why I am here."

"Let me tell you something we normally don't share to the world, Sorel. That orb has mystical powers that stabilize the balance of nature in Azeroth. There are four others within the other sanctums respectively."

"So they each represent a piece of this balance?"

"Indeed. Life, magic, time, nature, and earth."

"What does this one represent?"

"What's it to you?" Krasus stared at Sorel.

"I think I can use these orbs against Malygos."

"I cannot allow you to use these orbs, Sorel. They have power beyond anything you could possibly comprehend."

"That is why I must use them. We can't beat Malygos. He's far too powerful with the effects of all that magic at his disposal. Surely you can see that."

"I've studied magic for centuries, Sorel. Long before you were even a thought, I was learning how to perform complex spells that have rarely been cast through the ages. You tell me the Spell-Weaver is impossible to kill. Dragons are mortal, Sorel. We are divine ascendants, yes, but we bleed. We feel pain. We age. Do not tell me that a dragon is impossible to kill."

"Tell me then how to kill Malygos, Korialstrasz."

Silence.

"You're not kidding about using the orbs, are you?"

Sorel shook his head.

"That look in your eyes," Krasus said, "your heart burns in need of something. To be honest, I never really understood why they called you the Seeker in the first place. What does the Seeker search for in life?"

"A purpose, a fate... a destiny." Sorel continued to stare down Krasus. "I've died once, Korialstrasz. There has to be a reason why I survived whereas nobody else did. I must find my reason to live a second life."

Krasus nodded. Sorel could see a smirk beginning to form on his face. But something was off. It wasn't just his change in expression that Sorel could see. Three lines across his face began to materialize with blood beginning to fill in the wounds. "Krasus! Are you all right? What is happening to you?" Sorel asked as he went to the dragon's side, helping him maintain his balance.

Krasus began to cough out blood and grunt in discomfort. "Sorel... Malygos isn't the only one who has mastered the use of magic." His voice was weakening, becoming hoarse. "I'm fighting him right now... outside. I know we don't know each other that well... but your heart is pure. The orbs... use them." Krasus began to fade into thin air. "I fear it might be the only way..."

Korialstrasz, the dragon consort of Alexstrasza, vanished away.

Sorel froze in panic. He began to worry about how the battle was going outside. He could see red dragons falling one after the other, watching the temple set aflame as the snow turned into hues of scarlet.

He knew what he had to do.

His attention moved back to the Orb of the Red Dragonflight. His shadow began to engulf it as he extended his hand.

Korialstrasz could feel the snow around his battered and bruised body melt away. He watched small snowflakes instantly turn to water on his scales. The fallen dragon turned his aching head to the surging magic shooting out of the Blue Dragonshrine. He could see the blues spiraling around it, going through it one by one to become infused with unforetold power. Krasus could see that when one fell, two more took its place. His eyes widened as he turned to see Setrastrasza struggling to fight off three azure dragons. It looked like child's play. She was growing tired. Krasus could read her body language. She couldn't keep doing this for much longer.

Then, Korialstrasz looked to his mate. Alexstrasza continued to fight against Malygos. They were at a dreadful stalemate. Both were extremely tired, but their will to fight continued to burn. He couldn't afford to let her down, or to lose her for that matter. He had to continue fighting.

Krasus turned his body around to let his wings have space to expand out. His breaths were deep. "If this is my final hour," he told himself, "then let it come full circle." Images of himself began to materialize around him. There were six complete copies of Korialstrasz standing at his side. They all looked back to Malygos. One after the other, they ascended into the air.

Setrastrasza continued to dodge the ongoing attacks of her draconic adversaries. It was more like a stalemate. When she would attack, they would block or dodge her. The same would happen when they attacked her. The only reason the blue dragons were having the advantage was because their fatigue was divided into three entities whereas Setrastrasza had all of it. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. A sea of flame washed over her head and onto her opponents. She could hear them cry in agony, see their scales and wings glow like fire, and feel the heat fade away as they hurdled towards the ground. She turned back to see Korialstrasz fly at her side. In fact, there were duplicates of him all around her. "You still got some tricks up your sleeves, I see." She mentioned to him. "We need to buy time for Sorel."

"I'm not sure how much longer we can hold, Korialstrasz. We're losing this battle far too quickly!"

The true Korialstrasz looked her face. "Do it for Sorel, Setra. You love him, don't you?"

She gasped as her eyes widened. "H-how did you-"

"You're talking to someone who has found the love of their life. I'd risk my life to save her. It wouldn't surprise me if Sorel would do the same for you. Now let's give him the chance to stand against the Blue Dragonflight."

Korialstrasz followed his duplicates further upward. Setrastrasza watched him fly into the distance. She had to give Sorel a chance. It was the least she could do for him. Setrastrasza flew off, invigorated with determination.

Alexstrasza hovered above Wyrmrest, glancing at Malygos. They were covered in scratches and cuts. The dark clouds acted like an eerie fog, slowly creeping where the wind blew. "I had hoped to end your life quickly, sister, but you have proven more... resilient... than I anticipated." Malygos told her.

"Brother..." Alexstrasza said softly, "Stop this. Stop this while we still can! We can't keep going on like this. Even you can see that!"

"No... I will not stop. Not until they pay for what they've done. They are going to destroy this world. How can you not see that! They must die. All of them! If you will not save this world, then I will!"

"_If you will not listen to her, Malygos, then listen to me!"_

A shadowed figure appeared between the Spell-Weaver and Alexstrasza. Thunder began to roll through the clouds. Just then, a flash of lightning illuminated the being. Sorel hovered, fixing his fierce eyes onto Malygos, with five glowing orbs around his neck. Their colors were brightened hues of blue, red, yellow, green, and black.

"You..." Malygos spoke.

"Look around you, Malygos." Sorel called out, "See before you what your Nexus War has done to the dragonflights! You say others are abusing magic? See before you the abuse you alone have brought upon this world! The ley-lines have been altered, spreading their radiation and altering creatures. The concentrated focus of which is affecting the weather patterns to dangerous levels! But you..." Sorel narrowed his yellow eyes, "You are trying to use your very aspect to annihilate thousands of people that are supposedly misusing magic. Who is doing the world more damage right now, Malygos? You or them!"

Malygos growled in anger, his eyes focusing on Sorel's necklace. "The Orbs of the Dragonflights! How DARE you take those from our sanctums! Give them to me and perhaps I will spare you for your foolishness!"

"I am afraid I can't do that. The orbs represent balance with the aspects. They all must stand at equal with each other. You are upsetting this balance, Malygos!" Sorel began to open his maw. The orbs glowed even brighter.

A beam of white energy exploded from Sorel as the colors of the orbs spiraled around it. Malygos retaliated with a magical beam of his own. The two collided with brute force. Malygos struggled to sustain his attack. He tried to withstand the pressure, but it was too much for him. He ceased his attack and quickly dodged the oncoming beam. The sound of it echoed away.

Malygos charged at him as he extended his claws out. Sorel braced for his impact. Sorel felt a strange feeling with his necklace. The tied knot was untying itself. The orbs began to fall. "No! The orbs!" Sorel cried. As he reached for them, Malygos slammed his claws into Sorel's sides. The black dragon roared in pain as they both hurdled towards the ground. Sorel looked back to watch the orbs continue to fall.

The Orbs of the Dragonflights continued to fall to the ground, still glowing mystically. In a split second the orbs were swept away. Korialstrasz held the orbs with his paws. He looked at his clones and motioned them to Malygos. The six red dragons flew into formation, speeding towards the Seeker and the Spell-Weaver. Two of them began to pry Sorel loose from Malygos' grasp. Two others were trying to pull Malygos off of him while the last two were antagonizing Malygos with frost bolts.

_Snap!_

Sorel broke free of the death grip. Malygos expanded his wings to slow down, lashing his tail at the remaining dragons pestering him. Blood splashed into the air. "Argh!" Sorel cried, "Krasus!_ The orbs!_" "Don't worry, friend. They are safe." Korialstrasz insisted.

"My right wing is broken, Krasus. I can't continue the fight while I am grounded."

"Hold still." The eyes of Korialstrasz glowed green. Sorel could feel his wing begin to twist and churn again, but the pain was washing away. He cautiously moved his wing again. "It's healed!" Sorel exclaimed. The Korialstrasz that healed him vanished into thin air. The other one began to speak, "My powers have many wonders, but all come at a price. Do be more careful next time around." The crimson dragon released Sorel and soared back to Malygos. Sorel rushed to catch up with him.

"Sorel!"

The Seeker turned to see Setrastrasza flying next to him. "Here," she hollered, tossing him the Orbs of the Dragonflights, "you'll need this." He grabbed hold of the necklace and adorned it around his neck. They both smiled at each other. "Go save the world, hero." Sorel nodded and continued to fly off. A part of her didn't want him to leave. "Setrastrasza!" Sorel called out. She looked back at him. "I love you, Setrastrasza!" He turned and flew away once more. Setrastrasza couldn't wipe away the smile that she had. Her heart felt warm.

Malygos sent another magical pulse outward. The remaining images of Korialstrasz dissipated. "Enough! My patience has reached its limit. I will be rid of you!" The Spell-Weaver sensed something coming his way. Sorel ripped through the sky at Malygos. It was almost too unnatural. The orbs had created an aura around him. He was traveling fast enough that when he reached the clouds, the moisture began to solidify on his scales, forming a thin layer of ice. Sorel struggled to keep up his speed. The added weight and coldness was physically wearing him out. He began to think of all of those he had encountered since his fate at Tol Barad. He thought of Setrastrasza, Vordrastrasz, A'dal, Mordenaku, Alexstrasza, and Krasus. They were all important to him in one way or another. The ice continued to cover him. He closed his eyes as his body began to be encased.

The ice shattered like glass when Sorel slammed into the Spell-Weaver. The shards ripped tore at each of them. Their wings were punctured countless times, with ice buried between their scales. Malygos couldn't breathe. They both started falling. Sorel's body was stunned, unable to move. Something did catch his eye though. Some of the shards were colored. Sorel panicked and tried to look down at his necklace. The orbs were gone. His heart sank faster than he did.

The two crashed into the snow. The blue dragons stopped fighting. The red dragons did as well. Everyone had their attention at Malygos and Sorel. The shards of ice continued to fall around the two. They both lied motionless in the snow, both breathing heavily. "You... fool..." Malygos muttered, "You wanted... to save the world... You destroyed it, Sorel... You've destroyed us... all..."

The Dragon Aspect of Magic exhaled weakly. Sorel saw him roll to his side and froze still. He tried to hear him continue to breathe. Even with his keen sense of hearing, Sorel couldn't even hear the heartbeat of the Spell-Weaver.

Sorel lay in the snow. He didn't feel victorious. He didn't feel like he defeated the Aspect of Magic. Sorel felt defeated. His eyes turned to the shattered orbs around him. He watched as their glow began to diminish. "What... what have I done...?" The clouds above him began to move rapidly. They swept around like a whirlpool. Thunder began to rumble in the clouds. Sorel had a very, very bad feeling about this.

Chapter XXIII

"Sorel!" Setrastrasza screamed out. She bolted towards where he landed. Alexstrasza and Korialstrasz hesitated before they followed. They saw the blue dragons panic in fear, quickly beginning to retreat back westward to Coldarra. They all began to flee away from Dragonblight. Alexstrasza turned to her mate. "Korialstrasz. What is happening?" Korialstrasz hesitated to answer. "He didn't defeat Malygos by himself, my Queen."

"What? The only things that can stand up against a dragon aspect are the Demon Soul and..."

"That's what he used. There was no other choice."

"The titans bestowed us those artifacts. They are bonded together with us and linked together with the other orbs. They said if one of us dies, the link is shattered. Balance becomes broken."

The two fly down towards the fallen dragons. Setrastrasza landed at Sorel's side. "Oh thank goodness you're not dead!" Sorel coughed and sighed. "He's... dead..." Setrastrasza looked over Sorel to see the fallen corpse of Malygos. She could see the runes on the Spell-Weaver had ceased to glow. His wings were shredded. Ice shards punctured his body all over. The snow made a scarlet outline of him. Malygos was still and lifeless.

"I am a fool... Setrastrasza." Sorel managed to say.

"Don't say that, Sorelstrasz. You ended the Nexus War. You're a hero, now. Stay still. I can heal some of your wounds." She placed her paws on his stomach.

A green aura surrounded Sorel. A lot of the scratches began to heal. It was like fast-forwarding time to see the body heal to full in half the time. Although just like how the body works, they left numerous scars. Sorel didn't know how long he would have those. With his strength returning, he tried to stand up again. There was still some unpleasurable pain, but eventually he did stand with the help of Setrastrasza.

Alexstrasza and Korialstrasz landed by them. Alexstrasza walked around her fallen brother. She fell to his side and began to cry. Korialstrasz stood facing Sorel. He gave him a look of mixed emotions. "Krasus," Sorel began, "I-I am sorry. I didn't know that would happen to the orbs."

"When a dragon aspect falls, the orb of that flight is destroyed. With one of the orbs gone, the connection of the others is severed as well. One cannot exist without the other. When one falls, they all fall."

"What will happen to the other aspects? What about Alexstrasza?"

"She is a living creature, like you and I. Dragon aspects are not intertwined like the orbs are. Think of the orbs like the true essence of what the aspects represent."

"So this was bound to happen?"

"We hoped not, but it did. The balance of nature has been severed. We have to fix this now before it gets worse!"

A crash of thunder and lightning broke their conversation. The wind began to pick up. The earth below them began to rumble. A funnel cloud began to form in the clouds. Hell was beginning to show its face to Dragonblight.

"I am afraid to ask if you know how to fix this." Sorel said, looking at the weather begin to worsen with each moment. Korialstrasz looked back over at the mourning Alexstrasza. He turned back to Sorel. "This has never happened before. I'm not really sure."

"We have to find out. We need to." Setrastrasza added.

"I'll summon the ambassadors. Someone has to know how to avert this crisis."

Hours passed by. The weather was slowly becoming more and more severe. The ocean had swelled up and waves began to increase in height. A tornado began to tear through one of the Blue Dragonflight settlements to the west. The only way they knew that was because of the large surge needle circling around it. The dragonflight ambassadors were assembled in the Chamber of the Aspects. However, the Black Dragonflight ambassador had disappeared. Sorel and Setrastrasza, along with Korialstrasz, attended the meeting as well. All of them were talking amongst themselves, either talking about the Nexus War or the upheaval that was beginning to unfold.

"Everyone, if I could have your attention." Alexstrasza said. The audience began to settle down and gave her their focus. She looked at each of them, then continued. "With the death of Malygos, our greatest fear has been realized. The Orbs of the Dragonflights all shatter as well. The Aspects and the orbs hold a mystical connection to each other. The orbs symbolize our unity of the flights. If one falls, the rest will perish as well. We were foolish to not heed the warnings. We took a risk we couldn't have afforded. We're beginning to pay the ultimate price for that mistake. With the orbs destroyed, the balance of nature has been twisted and malformed."

"My Queen, what will happen if we can't stop this?" Setrastrasza asked.

Chromie was the one to reply, "The storms will worsen and spread. Earthquakes and tsunamis will reshape the world. Volcanoes will erupt and their smoke will block out the sun in a blanket of ash. Life will not survive such extremes."

They all were horrified. Everyone was afraid to speak after such a remark.

"Balance must be maintained." Krasus said. "The orbs were the key to this. Perhaps all we would need to do is restore them."

"What do you propose we do, Krasus?" Kalecgos asked.

"There are spells for restorations at such levels. I can't say they are easy to pull off, but I don't see another alternative."

"What do you require?"

"Time. Gather me a dragon of each flight who is willing to give their life to save our world. I need to meditate." Krasus walked to Chormie. "I need more time than the present has to offer."

Chromie held out her small, gnomish hand. Krasus kneeled down and placed his hand onto hers. Krasus looked at the Queen of Dragons. "See you soon." A portal began to form under their feet. It glowed an errie black and yellow as it sucked the two inside. The portal swallowed them whole and vanished with a blink of an eye.

The council was dismissed. Sorel ventured to the Black Dragonshrine. Setrastrasza journeyed to the Red Dragonshrine. Itharius flew to the Green Dragonshrine. Kalecgos headed towards the Blue Dragonshrine. Chromie returned shortly after and weathered the storm to the Bronze Dragonshrine. All of them were bombarded by the heavy gusts of wind and snow pelting their faces. Lightning struck the top of the Wyrmrest Temple. Their wings were numb before they made it to their dragonshrine. Once there, they assembled a large number of remaining dragons of their flight. The dragons were informed of what was to happen. The world needed one brave dragon to help save Azeroth from coming undone. Hope began to shine as a noble dragon of each flight stepped forward and followed them back to Wyrmrest. Along the way back, they all rendezvoused at the fall of the Spell-Weaver. They dug through the heavy snow in search of orb fragments. One by one, a small piece was found and they all returned to the inside of Wyrmrest.

Krasus stood at the center, looking all around him to see them all arrive. Sorel examined him thoroughly. Krasus appeared to have aged more than he last recalled. Sorel began to wonder how long Krasus took to gain his strength. Nobody would know the answer to that. "You all have been asked a simple question. 'Will you save our planet?' And you all have answered the call without hesitation. What will happen here because of you will be passed down for hundreds of generations. Are you all ready to proceed?"

There was a pause. Fear began to settle in.

"The Red Dragonflight is ready, Krasus."

"The Green Dragonflight is ready."

"The Bronze Dragonflight is ready."

"The Blue Dragonflight is ready."

"The Black Dragonflight is ready."

Krasus continued, "Good. Return to your dragonshrines. The ritual will begin in ten minutes. Prepare yourselves, heroes. The fate of the world rests in your hands."

The chosen ones flew back to their dragonshrines. Sorel was about to venture off with the chosen black dragon, but Setrastrasza tugged on his tail. Sorel turned to the elegant red dragon. "Do you think this will work, Sorelstrasz?"

"It has to, dear. Our time hasn't come just yet."

Their lips came together as their tongues danced with each other. It was all too short for Setrastrasza. They looked at each other one last time.

"Be safe, Sorel."

They parted ways. Sorel felt like he did when he entered Outland for the first time. He felt lonely and devoid of happiness. Although his heart weighed him down, he pressed on through the snowstorm back to the Black Dragonshrine.

Krasus continued to count. He took to the sky and flew to the top of Wyrmrest and stood at the side of the Orb of Unity. Alexstrasza followed him. "What will happen to them, Korialstrasz?" Krasus turned to her then looked back at the Orb of Unity. "The spell will transfer their life essence into the orb fragments, restoring the orbs to their former glory. It is a truly horrifying sacrifice, but for Azeroth... it must be done." He began to channel all of his power into the Orb of Unity. It began to shine like a second sun atop the temple.

Sorel returned to the Black Dragonshrine. He didn't see the other dragon in sight. He began to scan around in desperation. He flew all over and couldn't find him. Sorel's heart began to sink into the Twisting Nether. But something caught his eye. It was the chosen one of the Black Dragonflight. Sorel rushed to his aid. The mighty dragon lied in the snow. Sorel could see that his wings were enshrouded in frostbite. The dragon was pale and barely breathing. "I... failed you... Seeker..."

"No. You did what you could. Rest now, brother. You are at the Black Dragonshrine. You will find peace and serenity here with the others."

Sorel watched as the dragon's eyes glossed over. Sorel looked back to Wyrmrest. He could see the beacon of the Orb of Unity glow through the stormy clouds. The Seeker looked back at the fallen one. He could see the black orb fragment clenched between his claws. Sorel swallowed hard and took it.

He knew what had to be done.

Setrastrasza watched as streams of light, five to be exact, stretched out from the temple to the dragonshrines. She watched as the beam struck the chosen red dragon. The orb fragment he held flickered wildly and the dragon himself was surrounded in a white aura. Lightning crashed all around them. Setrastrasza could even hear the ocean waves crash up against the flooded beach. The orb fragment levitated from the dragon's grasp into the white beam. She began to sense Sorel's voice echo into her head. He was in pain. Something had to have gone wrong. She looked back at the red dragon and then dashed as quickly as she could to the Black Dragonshrine.

Sorel was lifted in the air by the white aura. He felt pain course through every last part of him as he struggled to fight it. Sorel watched his orb fragment slowly moved towards his scaly chest. He tried to break free of the magic's grasp on him, but it was futile. The black shard made contact with his flesh and embedded itself into his body. Sorel felt a fire explode inside him. The pain was unimaginable. He roared in agony with his booming voice. Dragonblight echoed with the horrifying roars of legendary despair. In an instant, Sorel couldn't feel the pain anymore. He opened his eyes and looked around to see his own body continue to roar in pain. "No!" He cried out, "This can't be!"

With an explosion of sound, the world became deafly quiet. The clouds and snow and tornadoes vanished. The waves calmed down and receded back into the ocean. The earth stopped shaking. Then there was Setrastrasza, diving after Sorel. Even her yells were deafened. The tears that were swept away by the wind solidified before they touched the ground.

Setrastrasza tackled Sorel. They both rolled in the snow several times until they stopped. "SOREL!" She yelled. She looked at him. Sorel's eyes were closed. He didn't breathe. He just lied there motionless. Setrastrasza desperately slapped his face. "WAKE UP!" She waited for a second. She felt like she waited a century for him to respond. Setrastrasza slapped him once more. Then again, and again. She began to pound on his chest. She continued to do so until she lost her strength. Tears began to pour out of her eyes. She didn't even bother to pay attention to the restored Orb of the Black Dragonflight. She wanted her Sorel back. Her Sorelstrasz. 'No..." There was a puddle of her sadness on his bruised chest. It traveled through the grooves of his scales until it touched the snow.

Setrastrasza roared. It wasn't the roar of a dragon. It was the roar of a lover who watched the one she cared about most slip away from this world. And she couldn't do anything to stop it. She wiped her eyes clean and finally caught notice of the orb. She stepped slowly towards it and changed into her elven form. She lifted it from the snow and held it in her hands like a mother holds her new born. Setrastrasza fell to her knees and let the voices and images of the orb fill her mind. She knew the voice far too well. It sounded like his, too. She missed him already.

_"It... it is done. It is here where my fate comes... to an end. It is I, Sorelstrasz, who offered his soul to restore balance to the world. And Setrastrasza. Oh, how I will miss you. If only I didn't have to do this. But now... now there is nothing. Nothing left for me to fulfill in this world. Nothing at all._

_Nothing."_

Epilogue

It was only a few short days later that a large gathering of humans and dragons met at the Ruby Dragonshrine. Groups of six large and bulky drakonids hulled stone slabs atop their shoulders. There were five slabs, each holding the bodies of the five dragons that saved civilization. They were placed all around the large crimson tree at the heart of the dragonshrine. Alexstrasza stepped through the crowd. She placed a large seed atop their bodies. She then stepped back as vines began to grow from them and burry into the ground. The fallen dragons began to sink into the earth until there was nothing but the vines. Even those began to submerge as well. Then something sprouted from the ground. Five trees began to form before their very eyes. It was as if months were seconds. The trees began to take a strange turn in shape. They took the forms of the five dragons. Leaves sprouted from the base of their wings and wings of leaves were formed. Setrastrasza came out of the crowd as well and stood at the side of Alexstrasza. The Life-Binder gestured at her to go ahead. Setrastrasza walked up towards the mighty tree of Sorelstrasz. She went to one knee and placed the Orb of the Black Dragonflight in a small hole that was on the base of the dragon tree. She then took a step back and watched the colors of the dragon tree became saturated and vibrant with life.

Days began to turn to months as months began to fade into years. Deathwing, having successfully defeated Malygos with Nefarian's tool, made his grande appearance to Azeroth with the relentless upheaval through the Maelstrom known as the Cataclysm. To this day he is still out there, crafting the world into his-... well, the old gods' image.

After the death of Malygos, the Blue Dragonflight was heavily conflicted with deciding leadership over the dragonflight. They held a council of revered dragons when Azeroth's two moons fell into perfect alignment. It was Kalecgos who was deemed worthy as the new Blue Dragon Aspect.

Mordenaku, after freeing his mother and thwarting the plans of the Dragonmaw orcs, journeyed throughout Outland in search of his own destiny. He eventually found the Dark Portal and entered the wondrous land of Azeroth for the first time. He explored all of it, fascinated by what he saw.

Nefarian abandoned the dragon hybrid projects. He stated in his research that they are too uncontrollable to have in captivity. He tagged along with Sinestra's creation of a new dragonflight called the Twilight Dragonflight. Nefarian and the other black dragons use the Obsidian Sanctum to procreate hundreds of them.

The Horde and Alliance returned to Tol Barad. As they traveled deep into Baradin Hold, they too found the bodies of all of Nefarian's failed hybrid experiments including other captive prisoners as well. Even now, the Horde and Alliance both fight each other there in a struggle to dominate the entire island for use of the resources Tol Barad has to offer. The fallen comrades of Sorel were forever lost within the dark corridors of Baradin Hold. They were reported in as MIA.

Regardless, the legend of the Seeker never made it into public archives. It was labeled as a tale of incomprehensibility emotions. Many began to forget the story entirely. Perhaps they were afraid to have such a story fall into the wrong hands. Those that believed the legend was true feared the worse for what would happen with the fall of Deathwing.

Finally, Setrastrasza returned back to her home in the Twilight Highlands in the Vermillion Redoubt. She continued her sworn duty to protect Grim Batol from anyone who dared to enter. She still feels the deepest of sorrows for Sorelstrasz. It was as if she was more of a widow than anything. She wouldn't dare speak to anyone about the legend of the Seeker because of this. Perhaps she would change her mind some day. Luckily she remembered his story almost too perfectly. It was said that when she returned to the Vermillion Redoubt, she only told one person the whole story: Vordrastrasz. He began to image it all in his head while he listened to her begin the story.

"The thunder cracked during the midst of the storm. Each wave smashed against the bow of the ship as the crew members sought shelter inside. The moaning of the wind sent a cold chill down everyone's spine..."


End file.
